


From the Bottom of a Black Lake

by ffleabagg123



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Complete, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Post-First War with Voldemort, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black can't swim, Remus Lupin needs a break, Second War with Voldemort, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, get him some floaties, okay I'm sorry for that one, sorry - Freeform, swimming jokes just make a splash, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29832522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffleabagg123/pseuds/ffleabagg123
Summary: What if Sirius Black did not die that night in 1996? What if Sirius Black got to live to learn the truth about his brother's death? About what Regulus Black, aged 18 sacrificed his life for?  This short story will follow the events after the death of Dumbledore as a short account of when Sirius Black learned that his brother was always the boy he knew deep down.https://open.spotify.com/playlist/47KnuEINy6MKPQcEoTrtUG?si=4os5TjnqRcioXHAsfmFHgwThis is a playlist for Regulus as well as him and Sirius' relationship if anyone wants it :)DISCLAIMER : I in absolutely no way support JKR or her disgusting beliefsThis is my first serious fic so please be nice, I'm aware it's not the best but I worked hard and I'm really proud!You can find me on Tik Tok or Instagram under @fleaba.g in both places
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	1. R.A.B.

**Author's Note:**

> For the purpose of this all fitting, the timeline is not exactly the same and between Harry's arrival on his birthday and Bill and Fleur's wedding when the trio depart there will be at least a few days instead of the events being back to back. Remus and Sirius are living together and dating. Harry will get majority of the story of the locket from Sirius rather all from Kreacher leading to him being able to discover its whereabouts. I know this is slightly unnecessary but I wanted to have a full run down of how this would fit into the rest of the original plot.

For the past month, any vicinity holding at least two wizards was suffocated with a solemn air. It was heavy and damp, crushing lungs and triggering a funny sort of pain in the center of ones chest. Alas, that was the result of the death of a man who had marked the wizarding world forever - Albus Dumbledore. A man who had been so admired and so looked up to, so feared and respected. A man who, if he had wished, could command the entire population of wizard kind through his indescribable brilliance and mysterious atmosphere. Though, even with his denial of minister for magic and relatively low position of power as simple headmaster of Hogwarts, he seemed to be the one in utter control. He held them all in his hands and was a universal metaphor for safety and calm. Hadn't people been saying forever that it was Albus Dumbledore that made Hogwarts what it was? That he was the sole individual that could make Voldemort cower? That Hogwarts was the safest place, for it was Albus Dumbledore who assured that? Because of this, it was not just simply the death of an important figure that caused pandemonium among witches and wizards everywhere, but what it meant for the entire world in consequence. Without Dumbledore, there was no grasp on anything. Everything would and _was_ slowly slipping right from their fingers. It was no longer an act of preventing war, but preparing for it. The horrid reality of it came with such compressing pain and panic, it was a miracle anyone could stand on their own two feet. Sometimes it was hard to believe that everyone was still able to function through life, retaining some form of composure. What was keeping them up? It felt like they were all puppets, being held up by the strings of life, jerked and dragged through the motions in some cruel play. No control and unable to cut the strings, lest they bring down the others with them.

Though, within the sickening dread stirring in everyone's stomachs, unbearable if they were left alone too long with their own thoughts, there could be a thin strip of light found. Friends and family seemed to provide all and any light left in the world. A small, fragile spot of warmth inside the arms and company of loved ones, alive and well. It was all they seemed able to hold on to for now, and it was with a fierce desperation they did so. It was, at times, the only thing that kept them all going. And, as much as it ached to do so, one had to think about the fact that maybe that hug would be your last, and it didn't hurt to squeeze a little tighter.

Perhaps that was why everyone made such an effort and emphasis on dinners at The Burrow. Ever since that tragic night just a month ago, Order meetings no longer took place at Grimmauld Place as it was deemed a safety hazard since Severus Snape, the culprit behind the death of Dumbledore, could get in. The group had instead primarily taken to gathering at the cozy Weasley home, though they could barely be considered Order meetings any longer. Scarcely did they discuss business anymore, all displaced and with diminishing power and little room to act. They still gathered for meals though, more so out of a hunger for comfort and security than bread pudding. They had so many dinners, it was a wonder how anyone could fit any more of Molly's pies in their mouths, or stomach another serving of stew. But there they all were, gathered once again on a cool summer evening. Dinner had just finished, and everyone had scattered, spread out and lingering for as long as they could push, devouring the sense of peace and normality temporarily provided.

Harry had just arrived the other day, exactly on his seventeenth birthday. Sirius couldn't remember the last time he had been filled with such uncontainable joy than he had upon seeing his godson once again. Admittedly, it broke his heart to observe him in such a state - quite and reserved, much too grown up for so young - but just seeing him alive and relatively well was all Sirius needed. It wasn't fair, he thought, for these children to be forced so harshly and prematurely to grow up more than some people ever did in their entire lives. It wasn't fair that both Sirius and his godson had that in common. Two generations, one after the other, growing up in a war... could life be more cruel? Sirius knew not to question that too much, though. He learned a long time ago not to test fate, because it always had more in store. And he feared what it held, he truly did. For he better than most knew that there never seemed to be a limit to torture.

He had been waiting all day to get to The Burrow for supper, so impatient that he had little mind for anything else, and much to Remus' annoyance, almost burnt the kitchen down that morning. Frustration was something he did note cope well with, and his correspondence with his godson over the year had provided plenty of that. He just wanted to be able to do something for the boy, and the prospect of seeing him in mere hours had been much more important than tea and eggs. Which, of course Remus agreed, but still was not thrilled with the burning smell the enveloped the small flat for the remainder of the morning.

The downward progression of his godson throughout the year was obvious to him - how could it not be? Everyone was to some extent feeling the same downfall. But for Harry, especially after the events that night on the astronomy tower, to say Sirius had been concerned for the boy was an understatement. He was distraught at his suffering. The silence and lack of spark inside of him was horrifying. Sirius had spent some nights raging to Remus about it and others close to tears. Angry, so angry at everyone and everything - at himself for being unable to fix all of Harry's problems. Usually, the anger would shepherd into the sadness. Remus would listen to him and let him feel and display, gushing potent vehemence and ruminations everywhere until he was drained and empty. Remus harbored a lot of the same emotions, and he communicated that to his partner, but was quieter about it. It was just his disposition and the way they had always balanced each other. Sirius poured his heart out enough for the both of them.

The hug that Sirius and Harry had greeted each other with upon the couple's arrival provided such a surge of overwhelming exhilaration, Sirius believed it would last him weeks. It was a very buoyant affair- the most cheerful either of them had been in awhile, he presumed, and everyone else was feasting on it happily. Despite whatever Harry was experiencing internally, his presence lifted the mood of the house's occupants astoundingly. It was the best dinner they'd had in some time, and Sirius could without a doubt claim an almost utter tranquility within that he hadn't known he was still capable of knowing. 

He hadn't left Harry's side almost the entire night until Harry, Hermione, and Ron had stole off to the garden and Sirius had sense enough not to intrude. He did however, join them outside on the warm night a ways off near the small pond, sitting on an old, splintered bench. Remus accompanied him and settled beside the shorter male, legs out stretched and hands folded, both their gazes distant and unfixed, the silence comfortable. They soaked up the feeling of relief while they had it, weight and ache absent from their chests. Both knew it would be but a short solace, but it was one nonetheless. Sirius reached into the pocket of his pants, with ease pulling out a small pack of cigarettes and his wand, artfully and smoothly extracting one and lighting it as second nature. He took a slow drag as a soft breeze blew through his loose hair, blowing out the smoke to join it. Frogs and crickets filled the silence with a twinkle of chimes and rustle of brush before he added his own voice to the soft summer symphony.

"What are you thinking?" Sirius asked softly, and a small sigh exited the man beside him, as he had been anticipating the question. It was one they both asked each other often. Sirius turned his head to look at Remus in the dimming light, carefully holding out the cigarette to him, waiting patiently. He was much more calm than he had been in the previous days, finally content - or at least enough so.

Remus took the thin object from him, drawing it to his own lips and closing them around it. He waited a few moments before he spoke, as if finding his words from the smoke. "I'm thinking that you worry more than me, Padfoot." Remus told him, meeting his gaze with a slight searching look. Sirius searched him, evaluating his answer before looking off to where the three kids sat near the house in the uncut grass. Remus followed his gaze. "We can't do much more, Sirius. I think he's okay as he can be." Remus soothed, admittedly trying to satisfy himself as well. He handed the cigarette back to Sirius.

"I know." was all he could say, taking it back again and returning it to his own mouth. He couldn't do anything but agree, and he so badly wanted to hold onto the moment of peace, so he et the matter drift to the back of his brain. Repeating worries and surfacing anxieties would help no one. He looked back to Remus who was still watching the three before meeting his grey eyes again. "Love you, moons." he said in a hushed tone, soft enough to fit with the warm breeze.

"Love you, pads." Remus responded easily, corners of his ambers eyes crinkling slightly in the most of a smile he could manage. Remus lifted one of his arms and settled it around Sirius' shoulder, digging his heels into the soft ground and pressing his lips to the side of his head until he got a small sigh out of the other. 

Remus was right, of course. There was only so much anyone could do at this time, and Sirius Black wasn't about to be the one to singlehandedly fix everyone's woes. He just had a hard time being able to accept that. Harry was surrounded by wonderful support and would never be alone, but Sirius hated that it wasn't just Harry's mental wellbeing he had to be worried about. He could barely begin to delve into how terrified he was for his life. It was unbearable, sometimes, and he was only just able to keep a grip on himself at times. He was just able to keep from sinking into the horrible possibility that he could lose anyone else close to him. He feared if he entertained the thought properly, maybe it would come true. He was prone to bad luck, it seemed, and his entire life was enough proof of that. All was well for the time being though, Remus was right about that. It was okay to relax for just a moment. To pretend that everything was okay and the world around them had no effect on the house or the garden filled with people who had already dealt with too much suffering in their lives. They could pretend for a moment that it was just another perfect August night, stomachs filled with good food and sleepily comfortable with relief. Not a care in the world, if he could manage to clear his mind enough. 

"Sirius? Remus?" He had found his eyes closed as he sunk into the peace of the night, and hadn't processed the soft footsteps approaching them before he heard Harry's voice. His grey eyes opened and he looked at him, soaking up the sight of him, a question on his face. "I was wondering if you might be able to help me- us, with something." 

The words were like music to his ears. he shifted slightly, sitting up a bit straighter and passed back the cigarette they had been trading to Remus. "Anything." Sirius said simply, sitting uncharacteristically patiently as the three exchanged looks.

"There's something we need to know- a name," Harry began slowly, reaching into his pocket and extracting a small piece of paper, looking down at it without reading. "We only have initials, but we need a name. Someone who was close to Voldemort." 

Remus leaned forward with a deep breath, pulling his arm from around Sirius and folding his hands, elbows on his knees. He inclined his head, wordlessly encouraging Harry to go on. It was Hermione who spoke, a confidence but slight suspense in her voice. The importance of the matter was blatant, even if the two didn't understand why. 

"R.A.B." She said. "Those are the initials.

It was a weird moment before Sirius made the connection. The soft noise of the evening became eerie and turned to an obnoxious buzz rather than a pacifying overture. The three letters slowly fit together in Sirius' head, and perhaps it was a moment of shock that delayed the emotions from his words as he spoke blankly. 

"Regulus."

"Your... your brother?" Hermione asked, and Harry looked at her, also seeming to find a bit of surprise at this. "Of course..." she said softly.

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Remus said, voice just as plain as Sirius' and soft as Hermione's.

"Why R.A.B.?" Sirius asked, getting his bearings again and blinking, brow furrowed in slight confusion, not taking his eyes off the three though he could feel Remus' eyes flickering to him. "Where does Regulus come in to this?" He asked further, a slight tone of defensive irritation in his voice, as if they'd planned for the mysterious R.A.B. to be his brother.

This time Hermione did not speak, looking to Harry and Ron both. Their exchange of glances and unspoken words, knowledge hidden behind a secret infuriated him. What did his brother have to do with them? Where did Regulus come in to play now? He couldn't help but feel upset as well as he felt that tranquility shatter at the mention of him. Remus knew it too, for he wasn't ignorant to the topic of Regulus Black and the effect it had on Sirius. But Sirius had said he wanted to help, and he did. He would do anything he possibly could if it would help his godson. Regulus, out of all people, simply had not been expected.

Finally, it was Harry who spoke. "When I told you that Dumbledore took me on a mission, to get something that would help us defeat Voldemort..." He began, stealing again a glance at his friends that made Sirius' stomach feel funny. "Well, there was a note. From Regulus." He said. Sirius hated how he shifted his weight and Hermione's look of apprehension, Ron's discomfort. 

"What do you mean..." Sirius asked, though without a tone of question, feeling the buzzing around him getting louder. His grey eyes flickered to the note in his godson's hand, trying to act unbothered as possible, which wasn't too hard due to his shock, but it was obvious they're were expecting a worse reaction. But why?

"He did something... before he died, and we need to know if he achieved his goal. We think he had what we need." Harry explained in a business like manner, which only spiked more irritation inside of Sirius, who was already prone to quickly fluctuating, rash emotions. Why did he have to be so secretive with him? Sirius wanted to _help_. He knew he did a lot - a lot more than he thought, as Remus said, but why couldn't he do more? He hated that Harry kept up a wall between them when it came to whatever the three of them were planning. He hated it but he couldn't bring himself to get angry with him properly. Their time together was too little and too cherished to fight. 

"Harry," Hermione stepped in, putting a hand on his arm and his shoulders seemed to loosen. "Let him read it." She said.

Sirius hated that he didn't understand what they were discussing. He hated that he wasn't filled in and piecing together scraps. What had his brother, who had died years and years ago due to his treacherous dealings with death eaters, have to do with a tool supposed to vanquish the dark lord? When Harry reached out the small slip of paper, he took it carefully, unfolding the old material and looking down in the dim light at the thin, loopy writing that he recognized with a tight twist in his abdomen. 

_To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know it is I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I meet death in hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more._

Sirius read this over a few times, Remus watching him curiously before finally leaning over his shoulder, reading along when Sirius did not close him off. Reading the words, he wasn't even sure if he was making proper sense of them. What did it all mean? What had Regulus done - what secret? The turmoil of his thoughts wasn't even proper turmoil, but a confused blankness. He looked to his godson with an almost painfully confused expression, desperate for some answer.

"What does this mean?" He asked, feeling stupid, looking finally to Remus as well who had leaned back after reading, looking troubled.

"He must've turned - he betrayed him." Hermione spoke, everyone's eyes shifting from speaker to speaker with fixed, severe gazes. 

"That's what we think." Harry interjected, hopping onto Hermione's start. "This object - it was something Voldemort was using to his advantage. Regulus must have decided it wasn't worth it anymore. And, according to the note, destroyed it. Or tried to."

"And we need to know where it is." Hermione said firmly. "We need to know if he did destroy it or not."

"It's crucial." Harry finished.

Sirius had no words. For a few moments, he sat in utter silence, staring unfocused at his godson's face, trying to process the information through what felt like a very thick skull. His mouth felt dry and throat tight, heart beating faster than usual. He was sweating, though the sun had gone down and the air cool in the night. Sirius hadn't known how Regulus had died. He'd always assumed it was simply at the hands of Voldemort or one of his missions. He had simply believed it was due to his engagement with the death eaters that had led to his demise, and fought hard not to dwell further on the possibilities. Though, of course, he did. But out of all the ideas his everlasting grief could brew, the idea that Regulus Black had died in an act of betrayal toward the dark lord for the better barely crossed his mind. But why? He felt guilty for not even entertaining the thought, if that was in fact how his brother had gone. Regulus wasn't evil, he knew that. He knew he had never been evil and never had intentions to be. Why was Sirius surprised? Why hadn't he expected more from Regulus? Why did he feel a growing, horrible, sickening guilt in the pit of his stomach over simply not thinking maybe his brother had died for good? Because why... why would Regulus have died for that? Why would he have taken such a risk? Regulus, who always did what it took to stay alive. Who was smart and a thorough thinker, who could have lived. He could have lived.

"Sirius? Do you know how we could find out? Have you ever seen anything like this?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding like it was submerged underwater and Sirius looked her her, seeing the thin chain in her hand, a large ugly jewel hanging at the end. Slowly, pieces fit back into place in his head, and he was able to produce words from a thick tongue.

"I think I've seen that before. At my mother's house," he started slowly, trying to recall through his stupefaction. "When we were cleaning... a year or two ago." He finished, blinking in a slight daze.

"Grimmauld Place..." Hermione mumbled, "Of course. Thank you, Sirius." She said, a look of determination on her face and she grabbed Harry's arm again, sharing a look with him and Ron. Sirius held out his hand with the note, giving nothing but a slightly stiff nod of his head, and Harry took it, eyes searching him for a moment. Everyone was looking at him. It felt like too long of an uncertain, uncomfortable moment before the three of them broke away, heading not back to their spot of softened grass, but the door of the illuminated house. 

That buzzing, no longer peaceful silence filled the space around them after they departed. It filled him inside as well, the deafening sound of nothing pressing against his head, feeling and hearing the roar of blood in his veins and his heart working overtime. It seemed as if his body was working to process something his mind wasn't. His brother, whom he had believed for almost two decades died in betrayal to Sirius, had actually died in an act of betrayal towards the dark lord. In an act of redemption. All this time... all the years of being bitter of what he thought was betrayal, and his little brother had always been there. Always been deep in there, hiding behind the walls he'd built up. The layers upon layers of thick paint he was enveloped with over the years, tainting him, had still left remnants of that little boy who looked up to his brother and wanted to run away together to become cave dwellers. Regulus Black hadn't been ruined. Regulus Black had died with a last act of bravery none of them could've mustered, and Sirius hadn't known. Sirius hadn't known and had let his memory go bitter for so long. He had hated his brother. He had hated his brother until he had died, and now he learned the truth with him long gone. 

Remus placed a hand on Sirius' leg and he swallowed thickly, not looking at him, though not exactly sure what he was looking at. He was unfocused, completely inside his head and unable to escape. "Sirius?" He asked. He hated the concern in his voice - it made him angry, but it shouldn't. He was glad for his support, but he was angry - so angry. He couldn't regulate his emotions. He didn't even know that he was trembling with a cold chill until Remus ran his hand along his bare arm and he shuddered. His throat was tightening and sore, the warmth and peace the summer night had provided fading into a cold, skin prickling discomfort. 

"Regulus..." He said quietly, his voice barely an audible whisper but Remus heard him, leaning forward slightly and peering at him with creases lining his scarred face. He was worried - alarmingly worried about him and the newfound information. If anyone knew the depth of Sirius and Regulus' relationship and everything that came with, it was Remus. He had, after all, listened to all of Sirius' worries and woes about his family, Regulus specifically, since their years at school. After, as well. He knew how much it dug into Sirius' brain and took control of him. He knew how the guilt ate into him until there was nothing left. He knew this discovery couldn't come lightly. Not after how hard it had been to come to terms with the reality of what became of Regulus and their relationship. Regulus had been the only thing keeping him tied to his family. Regulus had been the only one that made Sirius stay. Regulus had been the one Sirius never ceased to care about, and the one that never escaped his mind with every day that went by. Regulus Black was one of Sirius' greatest regrets.

"I know." Remus said quietly. "Do you want to go home?" He asked, his hands slowly and continuously rubbing his arm in gentle motions, trying to meet his eyes but Sirius wasn't there. All he got in return was a nod, and Remus reluctantly stood, leaning to press a soft kiss to his cold forehead before walking away. He looked over his shoulder once to watch what he saw as a shell of a man harboring a scared boy. The scared boy he so painfully recognized that Sirius always shrunk back to whenever they seemed to be making progress. Whenever they dared believe things were okay, in a manner of speaking. But Remus bit his tongue and refused to be bitter. There was no reversing time nor reversing the information shared, and Remus couldn't decide yet if it was good or not that Sirius had this revelation. 

When Remus returned from the house announcing their departure ("Sirius isn't feeling well." He'd explained) and thanking Molly for hosting such a lovely dinner, he returned to the garden to find Sirius just as he had been. When he reached his side and offered a hand to help him up, he found tears streaming down his cheeks, and he pulled him into his arms. He held him tightly, pressing his face into his fresh, sea smelling hair.

"Deep breath." He told him softly, loosening his grip but still holding onto him, waiting until he felt Sirius's chest expand shakily before they turned, and were sucked into the tight, uncomfortable darkness of apparition.


	2. 19 Years Later

They apparated directed into their small flat tucked away in London. Remus loosened his grip on Sirius, but he did not pull away, nor did the other. He was still crying, and Remus could tell by the dampness of his shoulder. At first, neither of them said a thing. Remus didn't know what there was to say to him - what he should say, so he just held him, soothing him. He held his hand gently against the back of his head, long fingers stroking his hair, lips pressed against his temple. He could hear a soft whimper from him, and his heart shattered to pieces. Remus let out a sigh with a small tut, finally pulling back a tad and lifting the other's wet face with his hands.

"Sirius," He started sadly, face creased with worry and he pushed back a few loose strands of hair. "Will you talk to me?" He asked him tentatively. He was more than just saddened and heart broken by how much he knew this internally conflicted Sirius - he was scared. He was fearful at how he would react to Remus, and how he would cope. Remus worried that any second he was going to throw his hands off of him and march away, yelling and raging. He was equally worried that he would go silent and give absolutely no fight. He didn't know and couldn't gauge just yet which part of Sirius was going to take control of the situation.

There was a long pause of silence as Sirius stood there, tears falling down his cheeks as he let Remus hold his face to his. He kept his eyes closed, unable to meet the amber eyed gaze as he spoke. "He never wanted it," He croaked, voice small and just above a whisper, "He never wanted this." 

Little Regulus Black, who once came to his big brother in the middle of the night scared of monsters under his bed because his own mother only had a hard strike to the face waiting if he consoled her, was not evil. Sirius, who let his brother lay in his bed and told him stories, assuring him there were no monsters, knew that. Deep down, he always had, but he had convinced himself of a lie. That little Regulus Black Sirius remembered so well had gone no where. He had still been there, to the very end, and Sirius knew it. He had always known Regulus had never wanted what life had given him but had went with it anyways. He'd _had_ to. Many times Sirius had hated him for it - fought with him, called him weak. Been angry about his choice to submit to their family and his decided fate rather than fight. But Sirius also understood. He understood Regulus did it to save himself - to save Sirius as well. Because where would Sirius be now if it hadn't been for Regulus? The secret double agent Regulus had going with Sirius and his family during their years at Hogwarts is what got Sirius out alive. But Regulus now lay long dead, a boy at only age eighteen forced to meet his end. And Sirius not only failed to repay what he owed Regulus, but he had hated him. He had blamed him for his own death and felt angry, and betrayed, when really, he was born to die, wasn't he? Used as a child soldier, like they all had, except Regulus hadn't had a choice, and was on the losing side. Regulus Black had died in an unfair lie, and Sirius had been playing into its trickery for nineteen years.

"I hated him so much, Remus. I got myself to truly hate him."

That was about when the shock began to wear off, or so he thought. The emotions started to properly connect with the thoughts, jarred free by his unsteady words. He then, much to Remus' internal displeasure, pulled away from him, and moved stiffly to sit on their sofa, dropping his head into his hands, arms resting on his knees. Remus stayed standing where he was, turning slowly on the spot to follow his progress and feeling frustratingly hopeless. He was saddened by the news of course, and felt guilty as well for ever being able to bring himself to dislike Sirius' little brother with all he knew about him, but it upset him further to see what it did to his partner.

"You didn't know, Sirius... it's not fair to beat yourself up when you didn't _know_." Remus told him, but he had a feeling his words were going to prove increasingly affectless. He was doubting anything he would be able to say would even help at all, and it was unbearable. He couldn't take away this feeling of guilt overcoming Sirius nor could he convince him out of it. It was too large, deep, and strong. It was too close to him and Remus couldn't get in between.

"That's the _problem_!" He shouted suddenly, his voice cracking like a child, finally looking at Remus properly, emotion obscuring his focus. "I didn't know, and for years - _years_ I hated him. I hated him when he _died,_ Remus, I hated his dead body!" His words were packed with emotion and every one felt like a gut punch to push out. He spoke with a thick tongue and tight throat, every syllable coming with as a difficult obstacle.

Remus felt his shoulders slacken and he knew there was no longer any hope for prevention. He needed to just let it happen. He'd ride it out and Remus would make the fall as comfortable as possible. They'd pick up the pieces and fit him back together, and there was future after this. It was just the act of getting through the storm that would be the hardest, but they would. They had to because Remus wasn't allowing failing to be an option. No, they could never fail after how far they had come. 

"I know, Sirius, but how could you have known? You know there was no way." He tried to tell him, slowly moving over to the sofa and carefully sitting beside him, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

"It's not fair..." Sirius said, and his voice was a whimper. Remus was reminded of a young boy, around age eleven, crying under the sheets of his four poster, scared and fearful of what awaited him at home. "Nineteen years, Moony... nineteen..." He choked, and it seemed he was retreating from his outburst, but the tempest was not gone. With Sirius, you never knew which direction it was going, or where his next turn may be. Remus wished nothing more than to be able to get inside his head, even pleading for that communication at times. He knew the barrier wasn't intentional, not all the time, but he wished it to be gone with all his might. He hated having to accept that he could not and would not be aware of everything that went on inside of Sirius Black's head. It terrified him.

"I know." Remus said weakly, taking a breath as if to say more, but no words came. Silence settled over them for a moment but for Sirius' soft sniffles and unsteady breathing, small huffs of air escaping in attempt to suppress the true sobs that built in his chest.

Then Sirius stood again, running his fingers through his long hair, taking a step one way, then hesitating, and going another. He began a lost process of pacing, though shuffling more like a hurt animal than holding a purposeful march. He held an arm across his chest, fingers of the other hand resting at his trembling lips. It was obvious his effort to keep the flood gates up and hold the walls strong. Without either having to express it to the other, they knew it all wouldn't be confined for very long. Remus could see nineteen years of unresolved grief frothing up behind his eyes and Sirius could feel it. The threat of it crackled like electricity in the quiet, dim sitting room, and it was just a matter of time before it struck him down. It rumbled like thunder inside of him, an unbearable pressure in his chest, tightness everywhere, trying to suffocate him.

"I hated him and I should've helped him." He said, his voice raspy and quiet, barely able to manage under the strain of years of anguish finally hitting. "I should've done more. He did so much for me and I gave up on him - I hated him like I hated the rest of them." Sirius stopped moving, standing there, entire body trembling. He started crying. Really crying - not just silent tears, not just small little noises of pitiful mourning, but truly crying, with every part of his being. His shoulders began to shake and he felt as if his ribcage had cracked. Sob after sob broke free, as he handed over the reins and relinquished control to the dark force inside him. To the monstrous guilt - the sickening dark that resided in him and threatened time after time to consume him. Something that had blossomed and grown during his time in Azkaban and that would never leave him. A horrifyingly midnight enemy right inside his very body. Something that _was_ him. Back and laughing in his face, feeding on this weakness, and hoping maybe to once and for all seal its hands around him and drag him under.

He crumpled to the floor. Remus had already gotten to his feet when he had stopped his pacing, only taking a hesitant step forward, unsure of his welcome until he'd seen him truly break and fall to his knees. He didn't care if Sirius wanted to push him away - he wasn't allowed to. He needed Remus and Remus needed him and he'd be damned if he was going to let this be the last straw. So he moved over to him, gently lowering himself to his knees as well and wrapping his arms around his shaking frame. "It's not your fault, Sirius, I know. It's not your fault and there's nothing you can do now, alright?" He soothed, and to his relief, as much as it broke his heart, Sirius turned into him at his touch and buried his head into his chest, clinging to his jacket. "You're going to be okay." He murmured, and Remus was sure of that because it was a promise he would keep. He'd get him through this and he would be okay. He always was. Sirius Black... never would Remus know how he managed the bravery he did. How he pushed through so much. It made Remus feel weak compared to him, despite how shocking a statement that was considering Remus' conflicts. "And Regulus is okay now, you know that? He's okay." Remus said. Sirius seemed to cry harder. Remus wondered as he spoke - the both of them wondered - how had it happened? How had eighteen year old Regulus Black, certain of his fate, laid down his sword? And Remus found himself crying. Found his own throat restricted and tears sliding from his eyes as Sirius proclaimed awful confessions of guilt and regret, shame and bitterness dripping from his shaky, broken words.

"All my life... all _our_ life... everything had always been against _us_." Sirius whimpered, the gale truly settling in. Remus was all that held him up as he wept and choked and sobbed, letting out horrible, piteous, anguished noises. Oh but it was so true. Their entire life they'd never gotten what two brothers deserved - what they craved so badly. Their relationship was always destined to be tainted and ripped apart. They had both watched its progress throughout the years, everything slowly ripped to shreds until there was nothing left. Them, together, as one unit, was never how it was going to turn out. Never was a strong relationship between brothers going to prevail. Now, the worst case scenario of it shown through, as Sirius sobbed on the ground over a brother he'd believed he hated until his last days and through death. Through nineteen years. "I - I never got to tell him so m - many things," Sirius cried, voice muffled by the clothing of Remus' shirt but the emotions deafening. "All he knew was that I - I hated him," he choked, gasping for air now between broken sobs, entire body wracked with trembling cries. "He thought I hated him."

His whimpers pulled more stinging tears from Remus' own eyes. He was mourning too. He too remembered the boy he'd first met second year on the Hogwarts express, so excited and young. So anxious and worried, clinging to his brother. Guaranteed to be torn from him. They never stood a chance, but still had been put together in this cruel world with instinct to love one another. Now Sirius was clinging to him like that boy to his big brother on the platform, seeing a whole false future ahead of him. Remus tucked his face into the fresh smelling dark hair spread out against his chest, softly shushing him. Soothing him, loving him.

"It's okay, love. It's okay. He knew. He knew like you knew he didn't hate you." Remus told him quietly, taking a careful breath himself and collecting his own emotions, a slight tremor going through his body.

"It's not okay..." The dark haired male whimpered, shaking his head, coughing through sobs, trying to take deep, gulping breaths that shook as horribly as his shoulders. "It's not okay... it's not okay, it's not okay, it's not okay." He repeated the statement many times in a progression of increasingly painful and tearful tone.

Remus couldn't say anything. Again, he was without words, unable to get them off a thick tongue. Useless, holding him tightly and rubbing hands gently and helplessly across goosebump covered arms, chilled by summer night air and deep, repulsing remorse.

"He deserved to get out... I didn't save him, Moony. I didn't save him like I promised. I didn't save him..."

**• • •**

The come down was a very long process. Sirius did not have the strength in him to put up much more of a fight, and he cried and cried as Remus held onto him. He spat bitter words of disgust at himself and the world until his throat was raw, lungs deprived of sufficient air, and head pounding. They sat there on the floor the whole time until he was out of profanities and complaints, too beat down and sucked up by that darkness to utter another word. He slowly began to stop his horrible sobbing, quieting after a long while to just tremble in Remus' arms like a scared, lost dog. 

He felt little satisfaction after it all - close to none, actually. If anything, he felt worse, and utterly empty. He felt drained of everything, and cheated. Angry, and set back - like he couldn't get anywhere without get knocked back to the ground by something new. How many more times, though? How many more times would he have his feet swept out from under him, and how many more times could he take it? He didn't dare estimate or hope that there would be nothing further. They were, after all, in the middle of a war. Again. And Sirius didn't have the bravery to challenge fate.

"Pads?" Remus asked finally, speaking properly after being only capable of muttering soothing words and shushing him with helpless murmurs. "I think you should try to get some sleep." He said softly into his soft hair, still continuing his gentle motions of rubbing his arm, not minding that his legs were falling asleep with a funny tingling feeling. Sirius gave a very subtle shake of his head, not thinking he could manage sleeping despite how desperately he wanted it. He was scared of the nightmares, most of all. So Remus just sighed lightly, nodding and making his next best offer. "Tea?" He asked simply.

"'es 'lease." Was all the taller male made out of his quiet, muffled, crackly voice. It was all he needed though, and he felt some relief to be able to have a proper task to set about and do something helpful. 

Remus nodded his head and carefully began to shift, loosening his hold on Sirius to pull his own legs under him, kneeling on the hard wood surface. "Come on," he said, a hand resting on each shoulder, amber eyes searching his face in the feeble light as Sirius pulled his hands up to wipe at his tears with a determined sniff. "Let's get you to the couch." 

Sirius complied with no resistance, silent and rather expressionless, resolved to a stunned state of empty defeat. He rose with the help of Remus, limbs heavy, and was able to move over to the squashy sofa, sitting with his gaze fixed though unfocused on something across the room. Remus didn't want to leave him, even if just to travel into the kitchen, and he hesitated. With a heavy heart, he leaned over him and gently took his face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. It was some comfort that he reacted, bringing a hand up to brush Remus' before it dropped back still to his lap. As he walked to the kitchen, he thought that the silent placidness that engulfed Sirius was more disconcerting than his tears. 

Remus prepared the tea not without peering out of the small kitchen every once in awhile to see Sirius sitting in the same place, hunched over slightly and head hung. He couldn't decide which state made him more anxious, and silly as an idea it was, he went about his task of making tea as though it would be the magic cure. If only things could be that easy. 

When it was done, he brought out two steaming mugs in shaky hands, setting his own carefully on the stained coffee table and handing Sirius his. He didn't let go of it until the male had it held in his lap, scared for the strength in his trembling body, but none spilled. Remus sat carefully next to him, shoulders facing the other, face sore with worried lines and concerned creases. Sirius lifted the cup to his lips and let the steam curl around his face, pressing his mouth to the edge of the warm ceramic.

"What can I do, Sirius?" Remus asked quietly, not knowing himself. He knew he so badly wished to do _something_ , to help him however he could, but in this situation he didn't know how. Mourning was weird that way. It wasn't something that could be fixed or taken away. It wasn't a simple matter of cheering someone up or making them see differently. Remus knew grief all too well, and it was an agony you were simply forced to push through. You let it rip and tear you apart until it lessened into a bearable ache, occasionally coming back for a harsh bite. You just barely held yourself together with reminders of the good you still had left, but even that didn't help sometimes. No, it wouldn't at first. Nothing helped at first, really. 

"No one can do anything."

He wasn't exactly wrong. Remus ducked his head and chewed on the inside of his chapped lip, nodding slightly. "For you, Sirius. Can I do anything else for you?" He asked, though he knew Sirius still wouldn't have an answer for him. 

He took a slow sip of the hot drink and shook his head stiffly - an unnatural motion, like he'd forgotten how, all the fluidity gone from his movements. Rigid and painful.

They sat together in the quiet for some time, the silence not awkward but heavy and sorrowful. No rush to find words to fill it and not feeling a need to disturb it. A moment of silence filled with shadows and memories of a dark haired boy with stormy ocean eyes not unlike his older brother's.

After not long, Sirius finally stirred, and promptly stood up, as if restarted. Remus frowned and watched him curiously as he set down his mug, ready to stand as well, but he simply muttered, "Bathroom." Before shuffling away, and he let him go. He glanced over his shoulder and watched him walk down the hall and turn into the bathroom, door shutting softly before he sighed and sat back.

He was worried, and he kept circling back to the same concern. He knew how bad Sirius could get and how awfully some things affected him. He knew his terrible relationship with guilt and had seen him at quite literally the lowest he could go. Sirius Black didn't crash and burn as other's might. His emotions worked in a way Remus still often did not understand. So locked away inside his own head, unpredictable and incapable of that communication. _Unwilling_ at times. Remus couldn't be mad at him for that, he knew he couldn't. He did sometimes get upset, but he tried not to allow it to kick up a fight. They'd had enough fights during their time to last them a century. He knew Sirius didn't mean a lot of his behaviors either - it was just how he worked, and Remus had grown to learn that. A man with a life full of more trauma and despair than happiness didn't come without his faults. The fact that Sirius was as well as he was... well, that was the real magic. But, again, as admirable as it was, nothing pained Remus more.

When Sirius returned, a newfound restlessness had obscured his mind. He couldn't stand to sit with his guilt, his numbness, this agonizing helplessness. There was nothing to do, that was true, but he had to do something. He needed some relief, a kind that crying was never going to give him. He wasn't sure if _anything_ would relieve him, but he did have one thought. He had one, small idea that took hold of his mind and he could not derail his course of action. He didn't know if it would make him feel better or worse, but it was something he had to do - had to _know_. It might, if anything, bring him satisfaction. Run him into a dead end and force him to simply cope and come to terms. But he wouldn't be able to do that until the story was complete. Until there was no where further to go. When he emerged, then, into the living room with a coat on his back and wand in hand, it was much to Remus' surprise at the sudden change.

"I have to go." Sirius told him.

Remus, quite alarmed now and getting to his feet, looked at him with quite a bit more concern etched into his face as well as a firm, authoritative look. "The hell do you think you're going, Sirius?" He asked as if he was crazy, and quite honestly, it wasn't far fetched. "You're not going anywhere," He told him, almost laughing (out of nerves) at the idea, obviously confused but apprehensive as well.

"I have to go." He repeated.

"Sirius -" Remus stepped forward around the sofa and reached out for his arm, but he pulled back jerkily, and Remus blinked at him, pulling his hands back and holding them up slightly. He was not scared of him, no, just scared of what he could do to himself. "It's late, okay? You're not going anywhere." He said, trying to drill that into him before he even asked where it was he intended to go to.

"I need to know more."

"I know you want to know, Sirius, and we can find out all we can but - Sirius!" He yelled this time as he turned away from him, grabbing for his arm. 

"Let me go!" He snapped back, wrenching his arm free, and there was burning look in his eyes, something that _was_ crazy. Remus looked at him with a mixture of hurt and confusion, lips slightly parted and a deep frown furrowing his brows, trying to understand his intentions. When he tried to turn away again, he spoke.

"Sirius Black!" He said exasperated, getting simply an impatient, furiously determined look in reply. "Will you just sit down?" He asked after struggling to decide what to say to coax him out of this wild fixation. He didn't want him to go anywhere and wasn't about to let him. Where on earth did he even want to go? He was weary to offer to go with, not wanting to even give into the idea of him leaving the apartment in the first place.

"I'll be back." Was all he said.

"I'll come with." Remus gave in.

"No."

"Sirius!"

It was so quick, the curly haired male was shocked. With a twist and a loud CRACK, Sirius was gone. Apparated right out of the house, right out of the argument, right out of London for all he knew. It was in a stunned daze that Remus stood in disbelief with his mouth open as if ready to form the words he was going to say before he'd disappeared. Sirius Black, who had just found out beyond devastating news - information that Remus knew was dangerous to his well being. Sirius Black who was in one of the most unfit mental states a man could be in, had disappeared to god knows where.


	3. Master Regulus' Downfall

Sirius stumbled as his feet slammed into a hard concrete step in front of a wall of dark buildings on a silent street. The ground was damp and air misty, street lamps illuminating the street in a hazy glow. An eerie silence engulfed the area but, and it was deserted but for the occasional car rumbling by, or calls from the sleepy streets of London. 

Disgusted rose in him just staring at the front door of the home. Finding his balance with the cold railing and setting his jaw, he straightened up, slowly examining his surroundings. He didn't think the place could have gotten any worse, but that's all it seemed to do. The home, _his_ home and the place he'd known since birth, only grew colder and harsher with every day ever since he was a child till now, as he was back again. Back again for the second time when at sixteen he'd sworn he would never lay eyes on the horrid brick again in his life. It churned up the most gruesome and bitter feelings of hatred inside of him. Sadness, regret, and guilt... But it was different this time. It was different because something had changed, and there was piece of him that didn't want to hate it all. He had something tying him once again, and he despised it. He despised that he could not just keep a solid, seething hatred of the house and his family, and it was all because of Regulus. He couldn't hate him, even if he wanted to, and he hated that part of him still wanted to. The boy complicated and confused feelings deep inside of him. He hated that he was almost upset that his brother had been so noble and good and still held a fight inside of him. Because now he could not just hate him and sit on the sour feelings. Now he had to face them, _feel_ them, and suffer the burden twice. 

Jaw already feeling a dull ache from the pressure of his grinding teeth, he thrust his wand hand forward and struck the old, dark door, hearing a series of clicks before it unlocked. He shoved it, letting it squeak on an old hinge and open to a dusty, dark hallway. For a moment he stared, breathing heavier than he realized - panting. He took a step into the house, leaving the door open to the warm cool summer night. The street lamps outside cast a gaunt shadow of himself down the hallway, sinister dark paintings and faded wallpaper lining the path to memories none too pleasant.

"Severus Snape?" There was a cool, rugged voice that whispered out of the darkness - that, Sirius recognized, of Alastor Moody. 

"I didn't -" Was all Sirius could croak out, his voice barely coming, and he tried again as he heard the soft rush of wind begin to swirl down the hall. "I didn't kill you." He growled, waiting for the air to hit him, closing his eyes and feeling his tongue forced to roll back before loosening. 

"Lumos." He muttered, stepping further into the narrow hallway. The light cast from his wand threw grotesque shadows against the walls, shaking as was the hand of it's caster.

The house was as eerie as it had always been, dank and empty, filled with a new layer of dust now that no one had touched it in months. A few things were turned over, looking as if someone had been looking for something, but if there was anyone hiding in the house, Sirius didn't care. There was one individual he wanted to hear from, and it was the last one on Earth he would have thought to be seeking out. If anyone else came to his call, then he would consider it unfortunate on their half.

"KREACHER!" He bellowed into the dark as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his voice coming more powerful than he thought he was capable of. Fueled by pure anger and potent grief, the yell was the only thing he'd felt deliver some feeling of satisfaction since the night began to fall apart. "KREACHER! COME, NOW!" He yelled once more, his voice even louder, even more deranged. He realized, then, how like his mother he sounded. A rush of sickness filled him, and his voice failed again, a deep revulsion striking him. It stirred a panic in his chest, and he swallowed a thick lump in his throat, backing to hold onto the railing, taking a gasping breath. He looked to the stairs where her portrait hang tucked behind curtains, still silent, but he could not see it in the dark. It was heavy and dizzying, creeping along his skin.

"Lumos maxima." He said shakily, and a ball of light shot from his wand, causing him to duck as it hit the walls and pictures, burning holes in the paper. "Lumos maxima." He tried again, not any calmer, but a large ball of light launched from the tip and suspended itself in the air, looking rather threatening as it crackled and fizzed with the unsteady emotion behind its magic.

There was a loud crack. Sirius looked unfocusedly to the floor, where a hunch backed old elf appeared. He bowed deeply, lips moving in silent mutterings, lifting his head and looking at Sirius with a twisted expression of disgust.

"Master Sirius... Kreacher had thought maybe you would not ask for him again... _he could only hope._ " The elf muttered the last part, and Sirius, too distracted and with mutual feeling, disregarded it along with greeting.

"Tell me about Regulus, Kreacher." Sirius demanded, voice low, but urgency and authority saturating his tone. "Tell me what happened to him. I know you know - tell me everything and don't you dare lie!" he said sharply.

He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before. At one time he had thought that perhaps Kreacher would know more about what had happened with Regulus, but what more had he to inquire? The information he had been given was that Regulus had simply gotten cold feet and met his end as many of them did - by the cruel hands of Voldemort. He hadn't found a need to interrogate the old elf then nor the time that passed since. But now he had all the reason. Need enough to enter the old headquarters - his old childhood home - in the midst of a war, dismissing the danger. He needed to know, and that was all there was to it. This elf would tell him everything he could and Sirius would not leave until he did.

Kreacher looked taken aback. His cracked lips parted, wet tongue swiping over them, shock passing through his wide, milky eyes before nerves. "Master Sirius wants to know - to know what happened to Master Regulus?" He asked, and the old elf's voice trembled worse than ever.

"Tell me what happened when he died, Kreacher."

"Kreacher does not know -"

"Don't lie to me, Kreacher!" Sirius yelled, lashing out with a fire in his stormy eyes. The ball of light sparked and shot more particles from it.

"M... Master Regulus..." Kreacher started, and Sirius was almost surprised to see tears fill his eyes and large droplets fall down his cheeks. He lowered his head and shook his head, muttering angrily.

"Speak!" Sirius snapped, his own voice cracking.

"Kreacher... Kreacher failed him." The elf said with a quavering voice, wringing his hands together and looking at his dirty feet, then looking bitterly at Sirius. "Oh, but you failed him more. My poor Master Regulus... how horrible you were to him!" He said with such loathing, and though it was no thought Sirius hadn't heard from his own head, hearing it from the horrid little elf struck him with a heavy blow.

"I didn't come here for you to tell me how I failed as a brother," Sirius spat, gritting his teeth, "Tell me what happened when he died - how did you fail him?" He pressured, confused with he idea that any of Regulus' downfall could have been due to an elf so pathetically devoted to him.

The elf closed his eyes, shuddering, going silent for a few moments in which Sirius let him, waiting adamantly in suspense. Waiting as if he was going to hear something that would answer all his questions - put him at peace, though somewhere deep down he knew that was the reality of it. He didn't know if he would ever be content with the knowledge - with how him and his brother ended. Furthermore, dare he hope the elf had all the answers? What did he want to hear in the first place?

"Master Regulus had a plan... a plan to defy the Dark Lord... orders for Kreacher but - but Kreacher could not do it!" The elf let out a incredible sob, and Sirius blinked a few times, disturbed by his state. "Kreacher could not carry out Master Regulus' orders! Kreacher failed master Regulus in his last wishes!" The elf was screaming now, tears pouring from his over large eyes and he lunged for the table near the stairs, seizing a large ornament and lifting it above his head. Sirius reacted just in time and launched forward, grabbing the object fiercely and shoving the elf back.

"Kreacher! Stop it at once! I demand you to stop!" He shouted.

The elf froze, forced to obey the command, and Sirius held onto the object in a shaky, sweaty hand, looking at him with a hardened face, his eyes holding a needy hunger. Regulus had taken something, a weapon of Voldemort's... that much Sirius had gained from the knowledge of his grandson. What did Kreacher have to do with it? What did Kreacher have to do with that locket? 

"Tell me what happened, Kreacher." He asked, voice shaky and low. "What orders - What did Regulus do?" He insisted. "How did he die?"

The elf let out a strangled whimper, sitting on the ground like a sniveling child, fat tears rolling off the end of his nose as he tried to breathe and contain himself. Sirius waited impatiently before he finally began to spit out words.

"Master Regulus... so good he was... Master Regulus came home one night and told Kreacher the Dark Lord required an elf." He recalled reluctantly.

"Why did he need an elf?" Sirius asked quickly, though he himself did not know why he felt to be in a rush. Maybe it was simply his desperation to learn what he could and to be over with the agony of ignorance. Maybe it was because he couldn't stand the slightly stale smell of the house, nor the sight of the despicable elf... he didn't know. Perhaps it was nineteen years of unconsciousness to the truth that made it unfathomable to go any longer uninformed.

"The Dark Lord needed Kreacher to accompany him, to drink a vile liquid - to be used and disposed of!" Kreacher sobbed, wiping a snotty, hooked nose with his arm. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to do whatever the Dark Lord asked of him, for it was an honor to aid the dark lord, and so Kreacher did."

"What did you do?" Sirius pressed further as the elf struggled to compose himself, though he didn't seem to be exactly trying to, wheezing and coughing in between his words.

"The Dark lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do. The Dark Lord took Kreacher - to a cave by the sea. Inside the cave there was a great, black lake." He explained. "The Dark Lord took Kreacher in a boat - across the lake to an island, where a basin full of potion stood." 

Sirius was so emerged in the story, so desperate to hear more, he forgot his tone with the elf, and everything else around him, watching and waiting attentively. It might've been the nearest thing to respect he had ever given him, his silent attention.

"The Dark Lord made Kreacher drink the potion - oh what an awful potion it was!" Kreacher sobbed, "Kreacher drank and drank, and Kreacher saw horrible things!" He rocked back and forth on the floor. "Kreacher cried for his Master and Mistresses, but the Dark Lord only laughed!"

"When the potion was gone, the Dark Lord dropped a locket into the basin, and filled it again. And then - and then he sailed away, leaving Kreacher!"

Sirius blinked, the story coming to a turn in which he didn't understand. "How did you get back? How are you alive?" he demanded, as if scolding the elf for cheating death.

"Kreacher was thirsty..." The elf continued, beginning to hiccup, "He tried to get water from the lake, but was dragged under... white hands pulled him beneath the surface."

Sirius was getting angry - almost ready to call Kreacher's bluff, barely holding his tongue. "And then what, Kreacher?" he said, voice raising, an almost slightly hysterical laugh pushing through. "How are you here?" 

"Master Regulus called Kreacher home." He said simply, looking at Sirius with bloodshot, loathing eyes.

"You... came home." He said blankly, staring at him, his stomach twisting strangely. He had barely escaped death, because Regulus had called him home just in time.

The elf nodded, sniffing violently.

"What happened after that?" He said impatiently, surging forward, finally setting down the heavy heirloom back on the table it came from. "You didn't tell me what happened to Regulus." He prodded, crossing his arms and beginning to pace back and forth a few times before turning back on the elf.

"Master Regulus was worried when Kreacher told him what had happened... he came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night... Master Regulus was strange..." he sniffled, "Not right in the head - Kreacher could tell. He asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, and Kreacher took him across the lake to the island as master Regulus asked."

Sirius felt something cold begin to grow in him - a horrible icy feeling as the elf spoke and Sirius slowly started to predict where the story was going.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher that he would drink the potion, and gave Kreacher a locket like the one the Dark Lord had." He continued, snot dribbling from his nose. "He told Kreacher - to switch the lockets once the basin was empty, and - and -" The elf's words came in great gasps as he pushed out every word as if it caused him great pain. "He ordered - he ordered Kreacher to leave - to go home without him, and not tell anyone, not ever Kreacher's d-dear Mistress what he'd done!" He wailed, rocking violently, though still forced the stay still at Sirius' command. "He told Kreacher to destroy the locket from the basin, and Kreacher watched as - as he drank all the potion!"

Sirius felt cold. Icy cold, right to the center of his heart, chest tingling and growing numb, something filling like acid inside of him as he stood frozen, watching the elf in dismay.

EDIT

"Kreacher swapped the lockets - and Kreacher watched... as Master Regulus was dragged - pulled beneath the water." The elf spluttered on. "And Kreacher went home - and Kreacher could not destroy Master Regulus' locket!" He howled, dropping himself flat onto the dirty floor and sobbing into the dust, banging little fists on the ground.

Sirius was stunned, frozen in place, watching the elf but barely seeing the scene commence. It felt like led had entered his veins, a toxic poison slowly working its way through his body before it would pull him to the ground, cease his heart, and stop his mind. He felt his breath shortening, barely taking in any air but somehow sustaining himself, grey eyes wide and blank but wild at the same time, cemented on the elf. He could feel his heartbeat moving him it was racing so fast, drumming so hard on a chest that felt ready to split open. The ball of light looming in the air crackled with a dangerous ferocity, reacting to his flurry of emotions.

Kreacher had been used for one of Voldemort's tasks. Regulus had volunteered Kreacher - or been directly asked. Kreacher went... went with him to protect this - this weapon... and Kreacher had told Regulus. Of course he had - the Dark Lord had left him to die. Regulus... he had made Kreacher take him back. Stolen the weapon and defied the Dark Lord. His last act had been even more horrific than Sirius could have possibly imagined. And he, rather than following in Voldemort's steps and using Kreacher, drank the potion himself. He drank the potion himself and stole the weapon - the weapon Harry was now looking for. Something to defeat the Dark Lord. He had made Kreacher take it and leave him. Leave him to die... to be -

"What killed him Kreacher?" _White hands_ , he thought... "What -" words failed him and he felt a shudder run like electricity through him, nausea dizzying him and feeling bile rise to the base of his throat.

"H - hands!" Kreacher sobbed, forcing out the words through gritted teeth, "Dead hands... so many dead hands!"

Inferi. Sirius felt an urge to gang, the bile trying to rise, but he swallowed thickly, feeling weak in the knees. The room was spinning sickeningly and the horrible light and shadows casted on the walls felt evil and menacing. He felt as if the house was trying to close in on him just as those hands had his brother, ready to suck him in and never let him leave. He had to fight the urge to run from the house and never look back, to drop to the ground as the elf did and curl into a ball himself. 

"You never told anyone?" Sirius asked in a strangled, failing voice. Rage began to once again bubble in his core, fueling his need for an outlet of any kind. "All these years - you didn't let anyone know?" He asked, voice getting louder.

"Kreacher could not!" He protested, lifting his face from the ground, angrily wiping his nose, seeming to be feeling a similar anger boil inside of him as he lifted himself by his elbows, just enough to give Sirius a grotesque sneer. "Kreacher would not defy Master Regulus, not after failing his other wishes!" He insisted. "Master Regulus didn't even mention Sirius Black - why would Master Sirius care about Master Regulus after all he did!" The wretched elf spat, "Friends of blood traitors and mud bloods and half breeds! Shame on Master Sirius for his cruelness to Master Regulus after all he'd done!" He raged on, pushing himself to his knees now, trembling with fury. "Disgrace to the name, disgrace to my Mistress, disgrace as a brother!" He screeched, "Why would Master Sirius care of poor Master Regulus' fate? Master Regulus -"

Sirius had reached his breaking point, teetering over the edge of the chasm and in danger of a freefall. "SHUT UP!" He roared, screaming louder than he thought capable, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted how good it felt. Relieving - and an unbridled anger urged him further. The portrait of his mother up the flight of stairs began to scream. "SHUT UP, YOU HORRIBE ELF!" He screamed, not seeing anything as he turned and kicked the leg of the table near the staircase, though the furniture didn't give, and he swiped the ceramic heirloom Kreacher had previously grabbed, letting it smash to the floor. 

He rounded on the elf. "I LOVED HIM!" He yelled, pointing a finger as the elf cried and looked at him with so much disgust, he looked ready to combust. "YOU THINK I HADN'T WANTED TO KNOW?" The ball of light sent sparks shooting from it. "YOU THINK I DIDN'T CARE FOR MY ONLY BROTHER - THE ONLY FAMILY I COULD CALL SO?" It burned brighter and out of control, spitting dangerously. "YOU THINK I HAVEN'T SPENT EVERY DAY THINKING ABOUT THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE DIED BECAUSE I COULDN'T SAVE THEM?" He bellowed. "YOU THINK I DIDN'T LOVE HIM?" The ball of light exploded, and they ducked as sparks flew over their heads and hit the walls, rocketing off the light in layers before it spluttered and died with his outburst, leaving them in dim illumination.

He did - Kreacher did believe Sirius hadn't loved him. Had Regulus truly believed the same? Had he not said a thing about Sirius before he died? Had he _thought_ about Sirius before he died? 

The indignation and resentment that rushed inside of him took a turn. Initially ready to strangle the elf at his feet, it swung around and sunk its teeth into him. His anger turned inward and the attack self inflicted. Sirius fell back against the wall, sinking to the floor, shattered pottery littering the ground around him. He was ready for his head to split open, his heart to burst, and all of it to be over. If Kreacher spoke further, he didn't hear him but for sobs and sniffles and the roar of his mother.

"....DISGRACE OF THE NAME - HALFBLOODS AND HALFBREEDS TAINTING PUREST BLOOD! THE MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK RUINED! UNWORTHY SCUM - FILTH OF THE WORLD..."

Sirius didn't know how long it took for him to raise his wand and direct it up the stairs, not knowing what he intended to cast, but his wand send a vicious stream of light that hit the portrait and exploded in a burst, the curtains violently snapping shut over her. 

Silence. Nothing but the noises of Kreacher sniveling and moaning, muttering about Master Regulus and disgrace in the dark. Sirius could do nothing but sit with his overwhelming thoughts and emotions, putting him into a stupor. 

There was truth to Kreacher's words. Sirius couldn't be as mad as he wanted to be, because he told himself the same things. He thought the same things and now the elf was confirming all the wretched ideas in his mind. Sirius could handle being a disgrace to the name. Sirius could handle being disowned - being forgotten and banished. Sirius had always been able to handle that. The only thing that had ever gotten to him was Regulus. That last tie that never seemed to fully sever, no matter how hard he sometimes wished it had. It stuck to him like a horrible residue and plaguing his mind. It was not the fault of Regulus himself, either. More so fate, and what Sirius had made of them. What they'd made of themselves - what they could not prevent them coming to. The regret, shame, and guilt Sirius felt over it never once left him. And now, as it had been for nineteen years, there was no way to make it up. No way to make it up, and no way for Sirius to reconcile. His brother was long dead. Long dead after doing what Sirius always knew was inside of him - good. He acted for the better, a last strike of denial. He made a choice of his own and it was the last thing he did. He had been a puppet all his life and had gone down in his single individual act. 

Neither one of them spoke directly to each other for awhile as they let their anger radiate in waves off of them until it was manageable. The room was stifling with emotion too big for the space, and Sirius began to feel suffocated once more, swaying in and out of numb shock. 

Finally, he spoke again, words not sounding like his. "Kreacher," He said, swallowing with difficulty, "Take me there. Take me to the cave."

He didn't know why. He wasn't sure why he said it, nor why he felt the need to go, but he did. There was no place else he needed to go but there at this moment. To this awful cave and the awful lake. He wasn't thinking at all. His thoughts ran completely on emotion and he was so unbearably drawn to this tavern - this hidden lake by the sea. He needed to go. 

The elf looked at him with watery eyes in the darkness, and Sirius could not make out his shocked, horrified expression.

"Take... take you to the cave?" The elf croaked, emotion in his voice unrecognizable.

"Take me there, get me in, and then you can leave." Sirius said, vaguely realizing how much he sounded like the exact story Kreacher had told him. The orders Regulus had given him. Admittedly, he didn't think Kreacher would mind if it was Sirius in the situation, though. The parallel of it felt odd, though, but strangely right at the same time.

"Kreacher - Kreacher won't!" He said in a shocked disgust, finally properly getting unsteadily to his feet. "The place where Master Regulus -" 

"You will take me there, Kreacher!" Sirius snapped, focusing properly on him, glaring in the dark. He put his own legs under him, trembling horribly, "Now. Take me." He said firmly, towering over him.

The elf gaped, wiping his nose and bulging eyes. Finally, after what felt like forever, he reached a trembling hand out to grab onto Sirius' leg. Without a word, they were sucked into the compressing darkness, the old house gone, squeaky wooden floor replaced by hard rock, and mildew scent with salty wind.


	4. The Cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some mention of abuse, self inflicted harm, (entrance to cave) and psychological distress / disturbing thoughts? Just be aware it's rather upsetting

Sirius' feet hit the ground with a force that almost sent him to his knees, weakened legs shaking dangerously, and he found his balance on a wet, stone wall. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to his surroundings, a loud rushing and crashing behind him, the sound of water deafening. He turned around to where light from a half moon lit the entrance, catching sight of dipping and folding waves, water smashing against rocks and the side of the cliff. It was a strangely beautiful sight, but stirred a feeling of bitterness in him. So long had he spent listening to the waves crash against the unforgiving stone of Azkaban prison, always cold and damp. Yet another thing that had been ruined and stripped from him - his love of water and the sea. It was taunting, almost, what came to be Regulus' fate. Pulled under its depths - drowned. The boy who had never liked water much in the first place... the one who would never step foot in the ocean as a boy at their home by the sea before Sirius. Refusing to go further than he could touch, yelling at Sirius when he would pretend to go under, only to rocket back up barking with laughter, making the younger boy laugh as well. That boy that now lay at the bottom of a lake.

Sirius looked down to see Kreacher near his side, lips not even occupied by mutterings of disapproval, but shut tight - trembling. He looked up at Sirius with wide, glossy eyes, fear and revulsion swirling behind them, but he didn't say a word. He turned in a slow circle back towards the depths of the cave, wringing his hands together anxiously.

"Where is it?" Sirius asked, voice trembling, teeth chattering slightly as he held up his wand with a shaky hand, lighting it with a weak " _lumos_." He slowly moved forward while the light cast distorted shadows across the stone, footing slippery and every alcove feeling like a threat. He didn't see where any turn gave way to a passage or any entrance to the hidden lake, turning back to Kreacher who moved slowly behind him.

The elf shuffled forward unsteadily, shaking like a leaf in the wind, wordlessly moving past him. He seemed to know where he was going, eyes not bothering to do much wandering, fixed at the slimy cavern walls. Sirius held his wand higher, trailing behind uneasily, avoiding the dark shapes skimming the corners of his eyes in teasing flickers. He could feel fear steadily seeping into him, settling in his bones and prickling the back of his neck. The crashing waves only seemed to grow louder and louder in his ears, the icy spray freezing his skin. He couldn't help but think of Regulus standing where he was, asking the same exact thing of the elf, knowing he would not be coming back. This place being his last sight, the elf his last friend. The moon on the water his last reminder of beauty and life. Plunged into nothing but darkness that never ended, deeper and deeper, at the bottom of a black lake. 

"Blood... is needed." Kreacher finally spoke, his voice barely a raspy whisper, thin fingered white hand brushing the solid rock they reached, far from the open water now. He looked again at Sirius again, taking a slow step back. "Blood must be given." He repeated.

Blood. Of course it was something vile like that. But it did not phase him. He took his eyes off the elf and slowly lowered his wand, gaze sweeping over the bare, rugged surface. He looked down at his hands, eyes flitting between each. Blood... from where, was the question. And, with little thought, he pointed his want to the palm of a rough hand, muttering a severing charm with little hesitation. As he expected, a neat cut appeared across his hand, the pain of it sending an awakening shock through him. He didn't make a noise, but his expression changed, as if pulled out of a slight trace, feeling something so real. He blinked a few times, watching blood rise from the opening, taking a shaky deep breath. Carefully, he reached out and pressed the stinging wound to the stone. At the contact, it slowly started to crumble away, dissolving before his eyes, an illusion one could barely make sense of in a normal state of mind. Revealed to him was a deep, dark cavern, silent but for ringing drips of water into the echoing space. 

He felt something wash over him. Something more than fear - something heavy. A suffocating sort of evilness, playing with ones emotions and testing their fight or flight, though giving the impression that neither was an option. A final destination sort of dread, filling him, threatening to sink him to his knees. To pull him towards the still, black lake that stood at the edge of his wand light, and hold him under. What vaguely concerned him was his lack of worry about those feelings. The lack of alarm at how inviting the water looked. The disregard for the way the cave felt like a presence, rather than a place. 

"You can go, Kreacher." He said, finding that his voice sounded strangely calm, echoing eerily around the hollow. As expected, the elf took no time at all. There was a loud _CRACK_ , and he was gone, the sound reverberating against the walls. Water rained from the ceiling, dropping musically to the lake, ripples cutting across it's glassy surface.

And he was alone. Alone with the dim glow of his wand to see, waves pummeling the cliffside behind him and filling the silence although it still seemed too loud. Too quiet. Not right. 

Sirius stared out across the lake as far as his wand light would let him. The dark was almost thick enough to completely close around him, engulfed in a bubble of white luminance, exposed and vulnerable to the presence of the cave. It _was_ a presence... like someone was there, waiting for him and watching him where he stood. Why didn't it scare him? He was horribly afraid of the dark. Had been ever since he was a kid, only to grow worse over the years - a generous treat from his dear mother. It did things to him - made him dizzy, obscured his vision, sucked away his thoughts. Closed his chest and his throat and made him panic. But it wasn't. He took a slow, deep breath in experiment, and it came and went easily. The only weight in his chest he felt was the tight knot of guilt and anger that had built and built during the night. He would like to say it felt almost as if it was unraveling, but at the same time it felt like it was tightening. It was a curious sensation, overall. His body shook and his breath too, but he felt oddly okay. As if in the eye of the storm, settled in some small bit of peace centered inside of him.

He inched forward, moving stiff legs across the stone, quiet footsteps echoing. He moved closer to the water, smooth as glass, staring down into it. He couldn't see anything but what looked like pure black liquid. It looked refreshing and curiously appealing. Slowly, he found himself sitting down on the wet ground without much of a thought. It was cool in the cave and the air prickled his skin, but it felt good. Relief from the summer heat - it felt good to be cold for the first time in awhile. 

Sirius sat there and thought. He still couldn't quite make out why he'd needed to come, and why he was there now. He didn't know what he needed, or what he wanted. Did he feel any satisfaction? No, he didn't think so. He didn't know what the journey would accomplish, or what he was waiting for. But still he sat in the silence, listening to the waves that he hated so much. He thought of the water in front of him. Of the days he spent as a child at the old beach house. 

It was a peaceful place - something one didn't often associate with the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. It was cozy, almost. At least Sirius enjoyed his view of the sea from his bedroom window, and enjoyed having the beach as his yard. He missed the sand in his toes and how it tracked into the house, getting in everything and dusting his bed sheets every night. He didn't mind it - not as much as Regulus had. He hated the sand on his feet, but Sirius told him to just let it be - that he had to just dig his feet in and feel it and not care. He remembered dragging his little brother into the sand and rolling around with him until they were both covered, sticky, and laughing. Then he raced him into the waves to wash it all off.

"You can't escape it!" Sirius had yelled to him, and successfully rid his brother of his fear of sand. "And you can escape me!" He had continued, pushing through the breaking waves to the younger boy and launching himself onto him, both going down in a fit of giggles and sea water. "Forever, you're imprisoned under me!" He declared, the waves washing them both into the shore as they tried to repel its force. "You'll never get away!" He yelled, and Regulus would haul himself from the surf, scrambling back toward the sand he disliked so much, and Sirius would run after, kicking up clumps behind him. They'd run and run until they reached the grass, stitches in their sides, tumbling into the garden. It was the truest laughter one would ever hear from the household - the two young Black brothers. Naughty boys, people would call them. Out of control is what they'd often say. But it was all Sirius, he would insist, and be punished for doing what children do. How dare children play?

Funny, he thought now. How such a small, childish statement could have so much impact on him years later. _Forever_ , he thought. _Never get away_. Meaningless words of forgotten fun, but somehow all apart of their tragic fate. Everything, he realized, led to this. No memories were meant to remain happy. It was always designed for them to have nothing left - for every last bit of it to be tainted. He was never meant to sustain happiness with his brother. _They_ were never meant to sustain. Not in any way. Now, the memories were the things working to tear him down, all a strategic ploy. Everything always working against the two brothers who had only wanted each other. 

"We could run away - become cave dwellers!" A young Regulus Black had proposed to his brother one summer night as they play late in the garden of the house overlooking the sea. Darting in and out of bushes, around flower beds, twisting through landscaping in the darkening sunset. 

"Live off the land - fight dragons!" Sirius launched into the fantasy, gathering together the spare twigs he could find blown into the yard, assembling their 'fire' and setting up their camp in the corner of hydrangeas. 

"Dragons?" Little Regulus had said, faltering and seeming to be seriously reconsidering his fantastical plans of living with the wolves.

"Big, huge, fire breathing ones! Hiding in the deepest woods - we could fight one for our cave! Or - or we could tame it!" He'd said dramatically, abandoning his outpost and speaking with excited hands, kneeling next to his brother poking at the fire. 

Regulus did not respond, looking up worriedly at the cry of a seagull on the beach, sky slowly plummeting them into darkness. "We should go inside soon." He had said, sitting heavily back on his bum and stabbing at the ground with the twig.

Sirius' face softened. "I'm only joking, Reg." He'd said, sitting back too. "I'd never let anything hurt you," he promised, "don't you trust me?" 

His brother looked up to meet matching grey eyes, hesitant, but he answered. "Of course I do." he said, still looking uncertain.

"Then I keep my word!" Sirius said, smile splitting back on his face, Regulus unable to help but mirroring his. "Get up, mighty dragon fighter!" He told him, rising defiantly to his own feet, thrusting his own twig into the air. "We have to man the fort!" He exclaimed, pointing to the house through the twisted garden paths. "Hurry! The dragons are coming! We have to -"

"Sirius! Regulus! Get in here this instant! It's past dark!" Their mother's harsh voice cut through the yard, splitting their fantasies, and they looked at each other apprehensively. 

"Your room tonight?" Regulus asked tentatively.

Sirius nodded in response. Then, they both raced back through the garden, laughter trailing them until it died as they reached the house, hiding muddy hands in pockets.

Sirius had let so much hurt him. He had been the _one_ to hurt him. After all this time, hadn't Regulus been the one to protect him? He had taken his job. Sirius had promised to protect him, and had the best he could, always taking the blame and always causing the trouble, but when it really mattered he couldn't. Because he couldn't get him out, and he'd left him. Left him when they were both suppose to get away.

_Cave dwellers_. 

"Look at us now." Sirius whispered to the silent cave. A cruel, cruel joke. They got their wish, didn't they? 

"You're only making things worse!" Sirius felt as if he could hear his brother's voice as if he stood right next to him, the memory vivid. "You try so hard just to make things worse!" Regulus had yelled at him one summer after he had saved him from his mother's hand. Convinced her to stop torturing him - yelling. Fighting so desperately - so scared for Sirius' fate, he had gotten her to turn on him. And Sirius sat there in the drawing room against the wall, listening to his brother yell at him.

"I don't try..." He tried to say.

"You don't know when to keep your bloody mouth shut!" Regulus yelled at him. "You're right - you _aren't_ trying, Sirius. The only thing you're trying to do is get yourself killed - get _me_ killed!"

"I didn't mean..." He tried once more, but he couldn't get the words out, limbs wracked with pain, only able to listen and feel an agony worse than the cruciatus.

"I can't keep protecting you like this!" Regulus said, flinging his arms up, a look of anguish on his face as he stopped pacing and looked at him. "It's not going to keep working, Sirius. You can't keep expecting it to."

"I don't."

"She's going to kill you one day."

"I know."

"I don't want to see you dead."

"I don't want to leave you."

He sighed, putting his hands to his face and sitting on the sofa. "Sirius," he said, "You left me a long time ago."

"I'm sorry." He said out loud, words filling the cavern. He didn't realize he was crying. He didn't realize his wand had slipped from his fingers, laying beside him on the ground. Tears fell into his lap, the peace of his mind disturb, stirring up memories and thoughts from the deepest depressions of his head. Every little intercourse - every word his brother had ever said to him. Memories from childhood he could vaguely recall, seagulls and windswept hair, grass stained knees. Sidewalk scrapes and paper cuts, broken vases and hide and seek. Hesitant looks in school, gazes with unspoken words. Meetings in empty corridors, rushed awkward words at moments caught alone. Summers of uncertain conversations with an underlying disease. Unknown amounts of times in a dark cellar with artfully hidden candles and matches. Unable to meet the twin pair of eyes, locked doors and resentment. Harsh words and hopelessness. Dead ends. _The_ end.

He saw the entire downward spiral flashing through his mind at dizzying speed, eyes closed shut as tears pooled from the stormy orbs. The whole progression of his life - of Regulus' life - of _their_ life. His ended right here. All that pain and suffering, and he didn't make it past eighteen. There hadn't been an escape for him. One or the other, and it was Sirius who got out. Sirius, when it should've been Regulus. Sirius had been the heir. It was his fault - everything was his fault. But would he have done anything differently? Would he have changed that night he walked up to the sorting hat? The answer was no, and it caused him even more guilt. Because he didn't want to regret living, but he felt he should, and part of him did. And everyone suffered for it.

"I'm so sorry." He said again, words shaking, voice breaking as a sob broke through. He tried to hold back, but his chest and head split, and he was incapable. "I was suppose to save you." He whimpered to the cave, dropping his head and shaking, utterly isolated from the world. Just him and his brother. His brother...

He looked up, only seeing a blurred glare of light through teary vision. He saw something ripple in the lake. Not a drip of water from the ceiling... perhaps a bit of loose rock. A fish. He blinked through disoriented eyes, and for a split second, he thought he saw him. In the dark, sitting with his back to him at the water. Hair cut neater than his older brother's, dark sweater, pale skin. It came in and out in the blinding dark. Sirius hesitated for a moment, confused but something jumped in his stomach.

"Reg?" He said, only vaguely thinking of the ridiculousness of his words. Maybe... maybe... He inched closer, not grabbing his wand, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to focus. "Regulus?"

The water was disturbed again, closer this time - a soft break, sending ripples to lap at the edges of the lake. Sirius stopped and looked curiously, face still sodden with tears. When he looked back, Regulus was gone. But it was so dark... had he just moved? He stumbled a bit closer, crawling and scooting.

"I'm so sorry," He cried, "Reg?" He asked, "Can you hear me?" He asked to the hollow room.

He looked down to the water. He was at the edge. It swayed gently, the affect of subtle movement beneath. Crystal black, it looked as comfortable as bath water. Warmer than the air, calm. He had never been afraid of the water - it had always been Regulus. Yes, Sirius was always the first in, and then his brother would oblige. He would never leave him out there alone. He'd left him alone too many times.

**• • •**

Remus thought this was a valid excuse to be angry at him for. He couldn't believe Sirius had run out on him in that way, but at the same time he could. He just never thought he actually would be so - so...

He took a deep breath and sighed, pressing his hands to his face after he disappeared, dropping himself onto the sofa to collect his thoughts for a moment. Sirius had, in an unfit state, disappeared quite literally into thin air, with no explanation as to where he was going. Remus had completely and utterly no idea where his distraught partner had gone in the middle of the night. He could be absolutely anywhere, and though this was always something very possible with the ability of magic at their fingertips, Remus found himself never having to quite deal with such a situation, as no one had utilized such a useful get away from conversation.

Through the beginnings of his panic, he tried to think of where he might've gone. He said he needed to go - to know more. More about what happened to his brother. The only place that Remus could think to start was the Burrow. Back to Harry, perhaps, to interrogate the boy. Yes, that was where he would be. But why not let Remus come with if Remus knew just where he'd be? 

He stood from the sofa, both mugs of tea abandoned and growing cold on the coffee table. He grabbed his jacket swiftly from the back of the couch, pulling it on and doing a quick sweep on the room, thinking what else he might require. Admittedly though, he couldn't quite think straight. He was trying to suppress the sick feeling of anxiety that grew inside of him and ignore the panic. No, he wouldn't panic yet. What good would that do him? He was indisposed if he was panicking, and they couldn't afford that, because god knows Sirius can't survive wherever he is on his own. And Remus had a dreadful feeling that he just might not find Sirius at the Burrow, and he didn't know where to go from there.

He took a deep breath, just as he remembered instructing Sirius to do when he was upset before they returned home, and twisted on the spot, leaving the house empty and quiet.

Back at the Burrow, the house was dark except for a light at the very top room, and a dim glow in the living room from a single lamp. Remus appeared almost exactly where they had left from, wondering vaguely what their night would've been like if they had continued to sit there in comfortable peace, no mention of the youngest Black brother. But, as they all knew, they could never have anything good for long these days. With Sirius and Remus especially, it seemed they were punished simply for letting their hopes raise even the slightest. Why should they deserve a break, after everything they'd been through? Cruel, that's what it was. A life full of cruelty, and it was by some miracle they had each other again. Sometimes, Remus was terrified to even dwell on it, and express how lucky he felt, for he thought that simple acknowledgment might rip Sirius from him again. He didn't know how much more either of them could take. It seemed to just be tested more and more, and here they were in the middle of their second war, and he was scared to come out on the other side. 

Remus approached the house and knocked on the door, unsure if anyone was downstairs, but not wishing to wake the whole house. It was urgent, though. Someone had to be awake - he knew the three of them were, as the light came from Ron's room, and he could only hope Sirius was there too. He tried not to think about how if Sirius had arrived they would probably be gathered in the sitting room and there would be more commotion. He tried not to think that what if this was that fear coming true? What if he couldn't find Sirius and he didn't come back? It wasn't safe - it wasn't safe anywhere and he didn't have a clue where he was. _He_ wasn't safe for himself no matter where he was.

Remus knocked again, speaking. "Hello? Is anyone awake? It's Remus - werewolf, dating Sirius Black, I helped write invitations for the wedding - I, I ate the rest of the mashed potatoes -"

He sounded like an idiot as he thought of anything to convince anyone listening of his genuineness. He pressed his hands to his face and sighed. _Keep it together_ , he thought. He hit a fist against the door once more, opening his mouth to speak, but he heard someone messing with the handle. He moved away and waited for it to open, gathering himself, preparing to properly communicate through words rather than sheer panic.

"Remus?" It was Ginny. She held a begrudging Crookshanks in her arms, looking tired though wary and concerned. "What's the matter? It's so late - you didn't leave something?" She asked curiously, looking behind her into the home as if she would spot some miscellaneous belonging. 

It was at her confusion to see himthat he realized Sirius wasn't there. No, she would have known. It wasn't like anything to get past the girl.

"No," He said, putting a hand to his face again and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his thoughts and plan of action straight. "I can tell now he's not here but - Sirius, he left." He explained, finally dropping his hand and looking at the girl who looked slightly disturbed.

"Left?" She asked confused, stepping back and letting Remus in, shutting the door behind them. "What do you mean?" She pressed, sounding a bit more awake and alarmed, holding the cat tighter.

Remus moved further into the house and his eye caught sight of the famous Weasley clock, every face on 'mortal peril.' 

"He was... upset." He explained, biting his lip and looking up the stairs. "Are the three of them awake? I need to talk to Harry." He asked, looking more distressed than any of the kids had ever seen him, and it was unsettling to see a man you looked up to as calm and collected in such a state. 

Ginny nodded, feeling as well a horrible anxiety rise in her. She set the cat down and took the stairs two at a time, and Remus moved to lower himself into a kitchen chair as he waited, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. 

Sirius was not there, and Remus hadn't the slightest clue where he might be. Where else would he go to find out more? Where on earth was he? He wasn't sure what help Harry would be, if anything he would just worry the boy, but perhaps he knew something more. Maybe he could direct him the right way and he could find Sirius before something bad happened. He didn't think expecting the worst was too far fetched, either. Something bad always happened. 

It wasn't long before he heard the first pair of feet joined by three more, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spilling into the dining room in their pajamas, looking anxious and alarmed as they swiftly moved to Remus.

"What's the matter? Ginny told us you said Sirius was gone -" Harry asked quickly, voice scared and slightly demanding.

Remus lifted his head and looked at them, opening his mouth to speak before he was cut off.

"Ginny, leave." Ron snapped as his sister brought up the end, mouth dropping open in offense.

"We'll tell you later, okay?" Hermione say, looking apologetically at the girl who put on a hard face and marched back up the stairs, though Remus suspected she was waiting on the first landing. Turning back to Remus, she asked, "What happened, Remus?" 

"He was upset, about Regulus." Remus explained, sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair.

Hermione bit her lip - it had been what she had been concerned about, seeing how Sirius reacted after they had discovered R.A.B. had been his brother. "That's what I had thought..." She said sadly.

"He was really..." Remus continued, hesitating as he tried to find the right words, not wanting to worry them but not sure how to spare them. "In a bit of a state." He said. "I thought he was alright after awhile, then he out of no where told me he had to go somewhere -"

"What? Where?" Harry asked, cutting him off in his worry.

Remus shook his head, exasperated, "He didn't say, and then he disapparated right out of the conversation." 

"He did?" Ron asked, slightly shocked. "And you have no idea where he could've gone?"

"All I could think of was that he might've come back here to ask what more you knew, but unless you're all putting up a good act and harboring a very unwell Sirius..." He said, dipping his head to his fingers again.

"Harry..." Hermione started after a short moment of silence, and Remus looked up curiously. She glanced at Remus uncertainly, before looking back to the boy. "Do you think... Kreacher..." She said, and silence settled over the group for a few beats.

_Kreacher._ Of course. It made perfect sense. Who else could Sirius possibly talk to who might have the slightest bit more information on the youngest Black brother? Admittedly, Remus had almost forgotten about the elf. Sirius refused to talk about his family in any context, save for Regulus occasionally, and after being out of Grimmauld Place he never spoke of nor summoned the elf. Guilty though Remus was about it, he never gave the elf much thought. Sirius and Kreacher often simply pretended the other did not exist at Grimmauld Place and in general. Through his panic, he had not even considered that maybe Sirius would seek out the elf in desperation for answers. It was now the only option he had left, and if that was not the case... he really was at a dead end. He could not bear simply waiting for Sirius to return, because something told him it wouldn't work that way. He was never sitting around just waiting for him to return again. Last time he did that, he didn't come home for twelve years. He didn't have the luxury of leaving things in the hands of fate, because it was always against him. He was going to bring Sirius home.

"Yes... Yes I didn't even think of that..." Remus said, slowly everything kicking back into gear, and Remus had a plan again. No time to panic now - not yet. He hadn't met a solid wall and he didn't plan to. He was already on his feet, wand in hand.

"He must have gone to him - who else would be able to tell him anything he wanted to know?" Harry agreed, it all fitting into place. They had just that night been thinking themselves of where the locket might be - Grimmauld Place - and that the elf might even be able to guide them and give them information as well. 

"He would _have_ to tell him everything he wanted to know." Ron added.

"Kreacher loved Regulus, didn't he? I'm sure he knows more than anyone." Hermione reasoned.

"I can't think of where else he could be if he isn't there," Remus said, shaking his head and looking slightly relieved to have another option, determined once more. "Thank you - all of you, really." He said genuinely, putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly, pulling Harry into a small hug. "I'll let you know when I've found him." He assured him. He let his eyes search the boy's face for a moment, taking in his features. He was a clone of Remus' two best friends - an utter clone. He'd never get over it. And never was he going to lose Sirius nor their godson. 

"Please do," Hermione said anxiously, grabbing his arm in a gesture of comfort as well, a nervous smile flashing on her face.

Remus nodded, stepping away from them and taking a deep breath, calming himself once more. "Get to bed you three, okay? We'll be fine." He tried to soothe, nodding once more as he turned away to the door, slipping back out into the cool summer air and shutting it quietly behind him. He walked a ways out, back to the old bench, croaking frogs quieting as he approached the pond. He took a moment to look up at the half moon in the sky, hoping with all his might it was just his anxiety making him fear the worst, and not a gut feeling.

He apparated directly to the front step of Grimmauld Place, wand gripped tightly in his hand. He turned around to face the street, scanning his surroundings, waiting hesitantly for something to jump out, or to see anything out of place. But it was silent, lit by yellow street lamps, the noise of the occasional cars in the distance.

Remus turned back to the door, tapping the it and listening carefully to the soft clicks of it unlocking. Hoping with every muscle in his body to find Sirius there - and that he wasn't about to be attacked - he pushed it open, quickly muttering " _lumos,_ " and speaking before the protective charm on the house even had time to form.

"Severus -"

"I did not kill you." He said quickly, the rush of air settling and Remus walked purposely down the hall of the house. There was no light and no noise, and he tried to ignore the horrible sinking feeling in his stomach, not allowing himself to believe Sirius was not there unless he'd checked every room. 

He walked more towards the stairs and froze as he heard a crunch under foot, looking down to the floor and stepping away, shining his light on the fragments of shattered pottery. It was definite then that someone had been there, but he couldn't be sure who. It was unsettling, nonetheless. 

Just as he began to turn to examine the foyer, holding his wand tightly, he heard something from downstairs. A loud crash, it seemed like. Remus stopped in his tracks, heart hammering. Despite his stomach flipping over in excitement that it just might be Sirius, he was equally worried it wasn't. Who else could he possibly meet in the house?

"Sirius?" He called dangerously to the emptiness , slowly approaching the stairs to the kitchen. 

The house went silent.

"Kreacher?" He asked instead, holding his wand in front of him and slowly descending, cringing every time the old steps creaked underneath his worn shoes. There was still no reply, and he felt almost sick with apprehension. Was it Sirius, and was he avoiding him? Was it Kreacher, wary of someone entering the house? Was it perhaps a death eater, searching the place for any information on the order? Remus had a series of spells running through his head, ready to be met with anything, mind racing. It was one issue of what he was met with, and another if it wasn't Sirius. It had to be - he had to be there. Remus didn't know what to do otherwise.

At the bottom of the stairs, he peered around the corner, finding the kitchen a bit of a mess, but no one there. There was, however, a plate of bread sitting on the table, a curious sight for an uninhabited house. 

"Sirius?" He tried again. Nothing. "Don't do this to me, okay?" He asked, wishing with all his might Sirius was even there to coax out of hiding.

Something clattered to the floor, and his heart almost leapt right out of his throat. He held his wand out threateningly towards the sound near the end of the kitchen, slowly approaching where the bread sat. Just around the corner he had heard the sound in the little alcove of the pantry.

"Kreacher?" He asked, voice slightly stern. Looking to the floor just at the edge of the turn, and seeing a silver spoon laying on the ground, glinting in his wand light. A step further, looking up and stepping into the hidden area, defenses raised, he was shocked to be met with flying silverware, a spoon hitting the side of his face, burning hot against his skin, chucked by the hands of a small, old elf.

"Leave, intruder! How dare you enter the Most Noble and Ancient House of -"

"Kreacher!" Remus yelled, feeling a mixture of relief, irritation, and fear, as well as white burning pain to the side of his face, where he clamped a hand. "Stop it! It's Remus, you know who I am." He told him, and the elf made a disgusted face, still holding a fork in his hands but not releasing it, relaxing slightly.

"Traitors and half breeds in my mistress' house again... oh how unhappy she'd be with Kreacher..." He mumbled to himself, perfectly audible to Remus' ears.

Remus lowered his wand, relaxing and shaking his head, taking a deep breath to settle himself.

"I'm sorry, Kreacher, listen -" He started, not knowing if he could even get anything out of the elf. Anytime anyone tried to speak to him, he usually gave very vague answers mixed with a fair amount of ill manned muttering. "Where's Sirius? Did he come here?" He asked as the elf turned his back to put away the silverware, still mumbling.

"Sirius Black does not like to visit the home where he was born... _nor is he welcome, ungrateful and treacherous, he is not deserving of my mistress' home..._ "

"Kreacher," Remus tried again, patience running thin despite how respectful he had always been towards the elf with no return. "I need to know if Sirius was here tonight - he might be in danger, alright?" He asked, taking a step forward.

The hunch backed elf stopped for a moment, seeming to ponder something. To _struggle_ with something, even. Slowly, he turned to face Remus with a curious look.

"Master Sirius did call for Kreacher tonight." He said cautiously, a look of foulness on his face, as though forced to say words he found disturbing.

Remus felt overwhelmed with relief, even if he was barely any closer to finding him. _Thank god_ , he though, letting a breath of air out. "Where is he, Kreacher? Where did he go?" Remus asked, not even inquiring what Sirius had wanted with the elf - he could make that out well enough on his own. He just needed to know where Sirius was now. Was it possible he was back home already? 

Kreacher seemed to be chewing on his words, fighting between saying them or not. Remus didn't have the time for the elf to decide if he'd rather see Sirius dead or not.

"Kreacher, _tell me_." Remus pleaded impatiently. "He's in danger out there, okay? I'm not letting him end up dead no matter how much you'd like to see it." He told him, not meaning to be so harsh and bold. Even voicing the idea himself made it resonate deeper inside of him. He couldn't even stand to think of finding him in any of the hundred forms of trouble he stirred up in his mind. He wasn't letting his anxieties be truth.

Somehow, his words seemed to jar the elf. He swallowed thickly, looking at Remus with loathing before speaking without expression. 

"Master Sirius wanted Kreacher to bring him to the place where Master Regulus died." 

His words struck him dumb for a moment, and he opened his mouth to speak but no words came. Sirius had Kreacher take him to where Regulus _died_? But of course he did... he was in such a state, Remus should have guessed he would do something so stupid. Remus didn't know where it was the youngest Black brother had died, but he felt it couldn't be anywhere pleasant, nor safe. It was disturbing, to say the least.

"Where...?" He started, recovering from the information, looking at the elf moving his lips in whispers to himself, glaring at Remus. "Take me to him, Kreacher. Please." He asked, vaguely aware that the hand tightly gripping his wand had begun to shake. 

Still, the elf seemed to struggle against his own self. Finally, he seemed resolved to comply. Without a word, looking regretful, he shuffled over to Remus and put a hand to his leg as he did Sirius'. It was true, that Kreacher wouldn't have taken Remus to him - for he had no reason to obey the werewolf - but he did for one reason. Because of what Regulus had told him. He'd lied saying that Regulus did not say a word about Sirius before he'd died. He had told Kreacher a couple things, one of those being an order regarding Sirius Black. 

"Keep him safe, Kreacher, okay?" Regulus had asked the elf seriously, looking into his distressed eyes. "If you can help it... he doesn't deserve to die. Not after how far he's gotten." He'd said. "Don't let my work go to waste, okay?" He asked.

Kreacher had just nodded. He couldn't disobey Master Regulus, no matter how much he disagreed. Admittedly, the elf had tried to avoid the order as much as possible, but he found no way around this. As Remus said he seriously believed the eldest Black brother was in danger, asking to be taken to him when Kreacher knew where he was... he couldn't not refuse. He had to. Damned Regulus Black could never stop caring... not even after death. There was no completely breaking that bond. Not after everything.

Upon arriving, the last thing Remus has expected (though he wasn't sure what he _had_ been expecting) was being hit with sea spray, tucked inside a cave at the edge of the ocean. His first thought was, _this is where Regulus died_? As well as how it didn't seem to make sense to him. He looked out, facing the restless sea, the moon shining in on the cave entrance and illuminating the black, slimy rock. He felt the elf let go of his leg and turned, about to speak before seeing him extend a long finger, pointing towards the far end of the tunnel.

Remus held his wand out to the direction Kreacher was pointing, the light not reaching far, but shining upon the slick rocks. In the distance further into the dark, he could see a small glow of light without a source. His stomach flipped dramatically and he started forward, recognizing the glimmer of what had to be a wand. A wand with no wizard. He forgot to even thank the elf, to dismiss him, (though he heard him leave shortly after) or question why he even resolved to help. Remus didn't know what lay in the cave, what horrors or perfect normality it held, but he knew with an ache in his gut and overwhelming panic in his chest that Sirius was only strides away. 

"Sirius!" He called, trying his best to jog across the treacherous terrain without losing his footing, light from his wand flashing dizzyingly as he picked up speed. "Sirius!" He said louder.

Sirius had only vaguely heard the crack of apparition, Remus' words drowned to him in the deafening silence, feeling almost as if he were already underwater. The longer he stared into the depths of it the more comforting it seemed. Peaceful. He felt at peace. Small ripples broke at the water's edge again, and he lifted his unfocused gaze to look out at the disturbance once more, though he couldn't quite make out what it was in the water. He was waiting, still, for an answer. Regulus had been right there... right in front of him. Hadn't he? Or was it a trick of the light - or the dark, he should say. Was he seeing things? The idea somehow hadn't dawned on him. Regulus could hear him though, couldn't he? Somewhere out there? He was here, he knew that. 

"Reggie?" He asked again, entire body trembling, feeling as if the cold of the damp cave and wet clothes were finally getting to him, the chill beginning to seep in. The unfriendliness he should have felt straight away beginning to register. This wasn't a good place - not at all. He could have made that much out himself, he thought... so why hadn't he? Why had he felt comfortable? No, this was not a good place to be. 

"Where are you?" He asked, voice quieter and fear finding its way into his tone. His brother had died here - in this awful place. Sirius had left him - Sirius had done this and it was his fault he was here. He was here somewhere and it was all because of Sirius. He couldn't leave him, he just couldn't. He didn't mean for this...

"Sirius!" Remus said sharply as he got even closer, holding his hands out to catch himself on jutting boulders, breathing heavily in a mixture of fear and relief. He was right there... why wasn't he responding? Remus couldn't even think of one of the million horrible things racing through his mind in a nauseating blur that could be the matter. He just had to get to him and prove his fears wrong. 

Something broke. Something pushed through Sirius' mind, throwing him off course, not even realizing that his had had been outstretched to the lake, dark water swaying now, threatening to spill over the bank from an unknown restless source. He didn't turn to Remus' voice, not sure if his mind was tricking him - or to what extent his mind was tricking him. Surely it was playing a variety of games on him... was Sirius even here this moment? Was he dreaming? Had he even spoken to Kreacher? Was this water real? There would be no harm if he touched it then, right? If he was dreaming, could he see Regulus? 

"Sirius!" He shouted, the panic so suffocating in his chest he felt like he couldn't breath as Remus finally reached him, processing the lake he looked about ready to dive into, crying out when he spotted something horrible in its waters. He really thought that was going to be the end of them - how they went out. Seeing a balding, white, slimy head emerge from the black liquid up to dead eyes. He knew exactly what it was, and felt with a horrible lurch, disturbed enough to be sick on the spot, bile pushing against his throat. _Inferi_. They were, Remus thought, the most horrendous thing magic could ever be used to do. 

It was only when he was pulled quite literally from the edge that everything rushed back to Sirius. The touch of Remus' hands were so plainly and violently real, his voice breaking past a barrier and ringing in his ear. He could feel his arms wrapped tightly around him as he dragged him roughly back from the water he was centimeters from meeting.

"Stop, Sirius, no!" He shouted and with a speed and agility he didn't know he had, dragged him back with such force, not caring about bumps or bruises. He was certain his heart was going to give out any second, not enough time to fall into a state of shock but he still felt like he was as he hauled. 

For a moment, Sirius just let Remus lug him away, slightly shocked as reality clashed with wherever he had been before in a confusing, dizzy explosion. He looked up behind him first to vaguely make out Remus' face, confused and scared, almost needing to process who exactly he was and where he'd come from. So Sirius hadn't been dreaming? But had he at some point? Had Regulus really been there? It felt like he had been... but he couldn't even remember now what happened just moments ago. It _was_ like being in a dream. 

"R - Remus? What - no, wait -" He stumbled, finding words, eyes trying to focus properly as he was forced away from the water, beginning to fight back, alarm rising in his chest. "Remus -" He cut himself off. Sirius had raised his head to look out upon the lake once more, and a face in the distance caught his eye. Up to sunken, dead eyes, the face of a human, long fallen. 

"Regulus..." He had no other thought - no doubt. "Remus - Remus - Reg - he's here! He's here Remus I know he's here I can't leave him again - he needs to know -!"

"Sirius, stop it! Please!" Remus pleaded as he fought against him, his arms tightly wrapped around his chest, trying to drag him to his feet and leaning back with all his weight as Sirius tried to drop forward. His pleas came out as sobs, not even noticing his own tears falling down his face in his fear and surprise. 

"Let me go! Let me go!" Sirius pleaded, desperate sobs forcing their way from his chest, breathing in great gasps of panic. "Remus - he needs to know! I'm sorry - I'm sorry - Remus," His words began to come out with no coherence, (not that they were before) but his fight wasn't strong, too out of his mind, disconnected from his body. He clawed and hit Remus' arms, squirming with no tactic, and Remus held on with all his might. When he'd hauled him as far as the entrance to the cavern, staggering with the effort and shock, he fell back to the ground himself, panting and choking for air along with the scattered pieces of a man he clutched together in his arms. Remus looked up back towards the evil water, certain they were about to be overrun by undead, dark creatures any second, but the head had gone. The water was still, and it looked menacingly innocent.

It was the only thing that allowed him to relax in the slightest. He dropped his head and buried it into the back of Sirius' neck as he gave up his struggle, the other clinging to Remus' arms with nails digging into his skin, but he couldn't care less.

"Sirius..." He cried, not even knowing what to say to him, trying to recover and be the rock for the both of them but he had been so terrified... "You can't - you can't do that to me." He said, trying to catch his breath and breathe slowly, squeezing him as if he'd slip away like water.

"He was... he was..." Sirius blubbered, hunched over Remus' embrace, tears falling to mix with the salty ocean water rivers in the cracks of the stone.

"He's gone, Sirius," Remus said, understanding too well his anguish but it didn't pain him any less to see him in such a way. "You can't do anything, he's gone." He told him, hating that he had to be firm with him and hating that he had to break his heart. Hating that he had to add to his pain to better it in the long run. 

"He's there I can - I could've -"

"You can't do anything, Sirius! Please!" He begged, holding him tighter as he felt him fight until he relaxed again in a wave of incapacitating tears. "It's all done, love, it's over..." He said, daring to move one arm from his body bind and cupping a hand to his face. "It's not your fault..." He soothed, though he cried along with him. 

To his relief, Sirius gave in. He spluttered on and on things Remus didn't quite understand other than a few clear points, his distress all he needed to know. Sirius turned into him as he dissolved into tears and sobs, curling himself on the wet ground as Remus cradled him in shaking arms, hushing him best he could. 

"I'm sorry..." He cried, though the apology wasn't directed this time at the boy who lay at the bottom of the black lake. "I'm sorry," He told Remus, crying into his jacket, trembling like a scared dog. "I wasn't... I wasn't..." He struggled to grasp the words.

"Shh... it's okay," He said, rocking them ever so slightly, a pacifying sway to match the swell and crash of waves behind them. Remus had felt angry, yes, and he had almost been compelled to lash out, but he could already barely forgive himself for even feeling enraged. Sirius had his right to mourn - he had his right to be upset. Remus couldn't blame him for his state, nor his reaction. Sirius Black was not a well man, nor would he ever be. Remus was not going to be upset at him for valid feelings of distress and uncontrollable reactions when years of abuse and trauma had done this to him. Because that's exact what happens with trauma - you react, you apologize, and people get angry. It sets you up for failure - Remus understood that. He understood too well how suffering set you on track for more suffering. Remus was the hand to pull Sirius away from that - Remus and Harry and everyone still alive who loved them. Remus would pull and pull and not let go even if it brought him down with him. Because he could not think of life (again) without Sirius Black. He would pull until he only needed to guide. And, perhaps, Sirius wouldn't need his hand at all one day. But he would still be there to hold it, simply because he wanted to. Because he loved him.

"It's not fair..." Sirius wept hoarsely, "it's not..." Was all he could get out, words not powerful enough to communicate the tumultuous emotions swamping his mind, unable to escape so instead taking refuge in the only thing that felt real - that felt safe, and worth it. The only thing tying him to the ground. Soft fingers on his face and trailing through his hair, anxious heart beat against his lips... Remus.

"I know, I know." He told him, wishing he could just squash all the horrible feelings out of him - the horrible words and thoughts. "Let's go home, okay?" He urged, wanting to get out of that place, still scared and painfully aware of the danger they were in despite the calm. "Let's get you home..." 

At the nod of his head, (although Remus would have dragged him home anyways) Remus stood, pulling Sirius up with him to unsteady legs that felt like pudding, not a muscle in his body feeling able to withstand any amount of work. Remus supported them both with unexpected strength, retrieving Sirius' wand with a flick of his own, not keen to linger.

He didn't have to say a word, feeling Sirius' chest expand against his as he breathed deeply, doing the same and taking it as cue. Together, they disapparated out of the foul place, and all Sirius could think before they were squeezed into the darkness, was about the brother he left behind. He had left him long ago, he knew, but this was final. Physically and psychologically, it was the close.

_I love you, Reg._


	5. Resolving Grief

Remus reflected quite a lot that night after they had gotten home and he had finally lulled Sirius to sleep. It was comforting to see him relaxed and unbothered in what he hoped to be peaceful dreams. The night's events were something that still shocked the both of them and would for awhile. It was been a complete messy whirlwind of information and emotion, and it was incredible they came home unscathed. A stroke of luck he was weary of feeling too overjoyed about, incase fate wished to take back its generosity.

He didn't sleep much once he'd gotten Sirius out of his wet, dirty clothes and into bed, curled around him until he finally drifted off. He was relatively silent through the entire process, a strange contrast for him, as usually he was talking Remus' ear off about trivial nonsense till he would finally pass out. It gave Remus plenty of open time to think and dwell, whether he liked it or not.

He paid tribute to Regulus Black. He fit together the pieces of a story he did not know and was not going to ask Sirius to tell him. He saw in his memories a young eleven year old boy excited on the Hogwarts express to start his days at school. Fascinated with his brother's friends, wanting to fit in - anxious as to where he fit in. He saw him going to the sorting hat just to be pulled away with an uncertain look on his face to the Slytherin table. He saw many attempts of the two boys to talk whenever they could with constant interruptions, whether it be cousins, house divisions, or mere lack of time. He saw summers and holidays go by with growing coldness and unspoken rifts between the two, a struggle to fight against something they couldn't even identify. A desperate frustration to hold strong their bond with no idea how. 

He saw Regulus draw further and further away, making a group of his own. He saw him engaging with the horrible things this group did and said, putting up an act as see-through to Remus as Sirius'. He saw this boy sink deeper and deeper until there wasn't even a fake smile to be found. Worst part of it was, he thought, that he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Regulus. Remus couldn't acutely place when it last was that he laid eyes on the boy. 

Which led to another thought, gruesome though it was... maybe Remus could place the last time he'd seen him. Maybe that time was only hours ago, as he looked out across that lake and saw something staring back at him. The thought, as he pondered it, made him so sick that at one point, he was sitting up and prepared to see his dinner once more in the bathroom, but he was able to settle himself. The most of what Remus had put together about the lake was that Regulus must have drowned - or at least it was a reasonable idea. And the inferi, however many there were, made sense if the cave was some evil cavern of Voldemort's, which it most certainly had to be. It made sense, horrible as it was.

For some time, he could not stop thinking about the gaunt faced creature he saw. He could not help but allow his mind to wander far enough to wonder horrible, disturbing things. To wonder if at one point Sirius and Remus had known what - or whom - that creature had once been. If, however inferi worked, it recognized them. And he turned into his pillow, and began to cry about it.

He cried long and hard at times as Sirius slept peacefully beside him. He cried in such a way in ages, bitter tears of angry regret turned to remorse and finally fear. He cried for Regulus Black and those who hadn't had a choice of their path. He cried for those who didn't make it through the war, whatever their story. He cried for those, himself included, suffering because of the ones they lost. He cried in his own selfish pity and cried for the man sleeping next to him. He cried for fear of the future and his godson and friends, the chosen family he had left, and what would become of them. He cried in his own weakness, unable to handle the horrors that were sure to be delivered to him. He cried in fear of death. Because, for perhaps the first time in his life, Remus Lupin could seriously admit that he was afraid of dying. That he was not _satisfied_ with dying. Not yet - not anymore.

He scolded himself when he had finished crying. Scolded himself for his self pity and forced himself to think of every good thing he had. Every single tiny detail there was to be happy about, and every minuscule thing he was lucky to have. He made himself go over anything and everything that came to his mind thoroughly and unapologetically. He could mourn, yes, but he would not mope. No matter how much time they had ahead of them, it was going to be made the most of. Remus was tired of spending his days weighed down by nothing in particular. It was time again to pick themselves up, and they would crash and fall as many times as they had to, as long as they stood back on their feet.

When the sun rose the next morning, both men entangled under a thin blanket, Sirius awoke with the sound of the birds outside and the traffic of the streets. It did feel strangely as he woke up that he was awakened from a rather bad dream - that the entire previous night had been just that. He couldn't place how he felt, everything slowly coming back to him in a slow, aching flow, memories like molasses seeping into the corners of his brain as he fitted it all back together. 

There were still some parts he even couldn't quite make sense of. He didn't know if he really had seen some vision of Regulus, but he supposed if he had, it was just a vision anyways. He didn't remember the events of the cave very well in general, just knowing that he didn't feel present - not in his mind. He had been so distraught he knew fully now that he had not been thinking at all. He felt guilty about it. About what he had put Remus through, and his own emotions. He knew they were valid, but he felt bad for his uncontrollable dramatics. He knew Remus would tell him he didn't need to feel this way, but he couldn't help it. 

Sirius wasn't sure where this put him - what the night previous had accomplished. He wasn't sure if he felt any satisfaction. He wasn't sure if satisfaction was possible to feel with the death of someone you loved, or if you ever really came to terms or stopped mourning. Grief never properly went away, but he supposed he felt brought to a new level, now. He had properly grieved, like he was supposed to nineteen years ago. He had finally come to terms with his brother's death and faced it. He guessed, then, there was some satisfaction in that. Progress, at least. 

He closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath as he stretched gently where he lay. He brought his hands to the arm gently wrapped around his middle, slipping his fingers between Remus' and bringing them to his lips. He pressed his knuckles against his mouth and focused on breathing quietly, counting and enjoying the blissfulness of his tired brain, unable to properly think about anything. He focused on how okay he felt now, how peaceful everything was despite whatever was going on in his mind or the outside world. He was safe and okay here and that was enough. He always would be, all thanks to Remus.

Gradually, the male behind him stirred. Taking a deep breath in time with Sirius, he let it out in a huff against the back of his neck, and Sirius felt the corners of his lips tug up sleepily despite himself. He could tell Remus was awake and they lay there in silence for awhile longer before he dared speak, worried of the state he would find Sirius in.

"What are you thinking?" Remus asked in a quiet, groggy voice, rough though soft all the same. 

Sirius took a moment before he answered. He thought about how horrible he felt, those feelings of guilt and sadness still overbearing, but manageable now. Something that he could see passing. He thought about his brother and found he didn't find feelings of bitterness or chill. He found that he was met with the best memories, no longer sourly tainted how fate wanted them to be. He found himself smiling over them. He thought about how he thought Regulus did know, now, the things Sirius wanted to say to him. Silly to think so, perhaps, with how the boys had last departed, but he felt some peace about it. Like Regulus knew, somehow. Like he'd forgiven him. Or maybe it was that Sirius was trying to forgive himself. Perhaps it was a just a strangely certain feeling hardened through a brotherly bond that not even death could separate. Perhaps, this was as good as Regulus and Sirius Black were going to get, and Sirius would have to be okay with it. It was okay. For once, Regulus and Sirius were okay.

"I'm thinkin about playing pretend by the sea." He whispered softly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! Short conclusion chapter, but I hope it was satisfying enough to put everyone at peace. Thank you so much for reading I appreciate it more than words can tell!


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